


The High Price of Love

by Sukunami



Series: The High Price of Love [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-01
Updated: 2007-01-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukunami/pseuds/Sukunami
Summary: Squall has an escort pretend to be his boyfriend





	1. Chapter 1

[Squall]

I have no friends. At least, not as of last night. They are all fucking bastards who don't understand anything about what I want out of life... or so I want to think. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that isn't entirely true, but I'm too busy being absolutely furious with them. If only it was socially acceptable to carry around a large sword...

"... ir? Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

Glancing up, I chose to notice the poor stewardess who had probably been trying to get my attention for the past several minutes.

A picture of customer service, the dark-haired woman smiles brightly once catching my eye. "Would you like a drink before takeoff, sir?"

I hesitate, sincerely considering the benefits of alcohol in my current situation, but I instead opt for a clear mind over a temporary escape. Turning my gaze back to the window, I mutter to the stewardess that I don't want anything. She doesn't push the point, already moving to the couple seated directly across the aisle. The blond-haired bimbo giggles at the man's request for champagne, the obvious newlywed pair adding a cruel touch to my already tormented state.

I hate couples, I hate weddings, and I hate fucking planes.

"Sorry, but I think you're in my seat."

Scowling at the new interruption, I glare to the side, only to discover that the deep voice belonged to someone taller than I had expected. Lifting my eyes farther, I first notice pale lips set into a mocking smirk, my gaze then focusing on bright cat-like eyes that stare directly at my face. I have to give this pale-haired, green-eyed man some credit: he's very handsome in the classic, “I'm a jock and, therefore, I can fuck anything with breasts” kind of attractiveness. But noting his attire of a partially open gray shirt and dark slacks, I can only see him for what he is: an overpriced escort, or a whore by another name.

A blond eyebrow raises in a questioning expression as the man repeats, "That's my seat," this time producing the ticket stub to prove his point.

"I changed my mind. I want the window."

The large man blinks at the comment, a slow smile coming to his lips before he maneuvers his broad frame between the seats and plops down into his chair. "So, you're Squall Leonhart, huh? You're nothing like I expected."

"Can't say the same," I state under my breath.

"Don't know if Kinneas told you, but the name is Seifer. Seifer Almasy."

I stare at the offered hand, then refuse it as I return my attention to the activity outside of the plane.

Seifer chuckles at my reaction. "Kinneas mentioned that you'd be a hard-ass when we first met. I don't see why. Your friends paid in full for my services. A normal guy would be praising the Lord for such wonderful friends."

"Fuck them. I never asked for their help."

After a quiet pause, the large man laughs deeply. "Damn, you have a mouth on you. Kinneas didn't tell me about that."

"... ..."

"Come on, princess. We have a seven-hour plane ride ahead of us, not to mention the rest of the trip. Do you want to waste your time being as stubborn as a jackass, or would you rather prepare me to meet your parents?"

Not wanting to reply, I shift closer to the window, mentally cursing that first-class seats aren't as wide as I thought. I should have made him sit in coach, but despite the peace of mind it would have given me, I know Seifer is right. He should be warned about my family, at least enough for him to appear my boyfriend. I don't like lying to my father about this, but Irvine and the others did pay a high and non-refundable price to torment my step-sister. There's nothing I can do but play along.

Hearing Seifer speak to the stewardess, I glance over and watch as he seduces the young woman with his low voice and charming smile. It's a sickening sight, but sadly, I know that we'll have little trouble getting fast service for the rest of the flight.

As the giggling woman leaves, Seifer looks at me and widens his smile. "Welcome back. You were thinking so hard that I thought I had lost you."

Accustomed to people mocking me for my bad habit to lose myself in thought, I don't respond to the taunt and instead ask, "Won't it bother you to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

"Why would it? I'm bi and you're hot," he states with a smirk.

Scowling at the idiot, I decide that I should've guessed earlier that he was bisexual. In a job like his, it'd be more profitable to be willing to have sex with both men and women. Though given his apparent ease with seducing women, seems reasonable that he prefers breasts over cocks.

After a sip of his drink, Seifer adds, "I also got a bonus for dealing with your personality, so I have no reason to complain."

I scoff, not at all surprised that Irvine made certain that Seifer wouldn't regret agreeing to the task of being my temporary boyfriend.

"Well, since you seem sociable for moment, how about I ask a few questions, like why the hell you are doing this in the first place if you're so against it?"

I stare into bright green eyes, wary of him making fun of me behind that interested mask of his. "Didn't you talk to Irvine?"

Seifer shrugs. "It was last week and in a club - we didn't talk much. And frankly, from his words, I was surprised to have an airline ticket delivered to me. Kinneas made it sound like you weren't interested after all."

"I wasn't," I state while looking away from his smirking face. "But I changed my mind."

"You change your mind a lot, don't you?"

I scowl at his comment and make no effort to explain my reasons for bringing him along. It's no one's business that Rinoa had called me last week, that her words had snapped my last restraint. Of course, I instantly regretted giving Irvine the okay to purchase a second ticket with my credit card number, but it's too late now.

"So, are you planning to explain anything to me?"

I sigh, wishing I didn't have to say anything for the next week, but I know that I'm not that lucky. "It's nothing complicated. My sister... well, my step-sister, if you want to be technical about it, is getting married. She hates my lifestyle, something that irritates Irvine and the others, so they decided that I should ruin her wedding by flaunting a boyfriend in front of her friends. It's stupid, really. Completely childish."

"Then why are you going along with it?"

"Temporary insanity."

Seifer laughs. "Well, I can't say that I haven't done this before, though it's usually some woman wanting to show off a handsome boyfriend. It'll be interesting to help out a queer for once."

"... ..."

"So, we've got a homophobic step-sister... Anyone else in the family I should be ready for?"

I shake my head. "Dad thinks it's wonderful that I'm living my life the way I want to live it, something he reminds me constantly. My adoptive sister, Ellone, and her husband think pretty much the same, though they are less open about it."

"And your mother?"

"She's dead."

"Shit, sorry. I shouldn't have--"

"It's all right," I interrupt, not wanting to hear false platitudes. "I was young and it wasn't a surprise. She was in the hospital for years beforehand."

Seifer said nothing for a short time before continuing his line of questions. "Then, if you have a step-sister, I assume there's a step-mother?"

I scoff. "Julia lives in another world where there is no such thing as homosexuals. I could fuck a man right in front of her and she'd think we were just wrestling."

The blond sniggers and comments, "Why do I have a bad feeling that you aren't exaggerating and that that scenario had actually happened?"

"At least she didn't hang around to see who would 'win'."

Seifer laughs loudly at my reply, turning a few heads and making me cringe low in my seat. "You're not too bad, princess. Now, let me see if I get this right: you've got a father who loves you, an adoptive sister who is married, a step-mother who is a special kind of idiot, and a step-sister who hates you. What's her name again?"

"Rinoa."

"Oh right, that sounds familiar from what Kinneas mentioned. Well damn, if you don't mind me saying so, you've got an interesting family there."

I shrug, accustomed to the comment. Suddenly, a heated touch is at my chin, coaxing me to look directly at the large blond and into his clear green eyes. Seifer smirks broadly, revealing bright white teeth and a sharp incisor tooth that makes his appearance even more like a Cheshire cat.

"Now that I know about the family, what should I know about us? How long have we been together? Where did we meet? What color are your drawers? And of course, how often do we fuck? Just so you know, I won't agree to anything less than four sessions a week."

I knock aside his hand. "I don't care about the details. Make up whatever you like."

"From my experience, it's easier to get our stories straight from the beginning."

"And I'm not one to talk to people about my life."

"I'm beginning to notice. So if you're not talkative--"

"I don't do public displays, either," I state in a near growl, not liking his suggestive expression.

"Kill joy," he huffs while moving back in his seat. "You know, a normal person wouldn't mind the excuse to loosen up. And wouldn't us doing the tonsil tango in front of the blushing bride be more satisfying for you?"

I turn and look to the window, watching as the plane slowly backs out from the gate. "I don't hate her, really."

"Oh? Then why are you going to such lengths to add a black spot to her wedding?"

"... ..."

"What, you're not going to tell your 'boyfriend' all about your deepest and darkest thoughts?" he asks while placing a large hand at my thigh and rubbing it in manner that fails to be soothing.

"I'm done talking," I state while slumping against the uncomfortable wall of the plane.

"Don't give me that. I don't even know where you live or where you work. I'm not going to look like a convincing boyfriend at this rate."

"Irvine arrived in California earlier this morning. You can ask him."

Seifer scowls at the brush off, his hand still on my leg but unmoving. "Why do I have to wait when you're stuck here with me?"

"I'll be working," I explain with a light kick to my carry-on bag. "You can entertain yourself."

Looking much like a teenager who had just been grounded, Seifer jerks his hand away and slouches in his seat. Growling in an angry murmur, he declares, "They better not be showing some God-damned chick flick on this flight."

~ > < ~

"Hey, wait up, princess!"

Adjusting the strap of my carry-on to rest more comfortably on my shoulder, I reluctantly slow my pace as I allow the large blond to catch up to my side. In a low voice, I tell him, "Stop calling me that, you idiot."

"But it's the best way to get your attention," he counters with a smug grin.

"... ..."

"Why are you so angry, darling?" Seifer asks with exaggerated concern. "Don't tell me you're still upset over that drooling incident. I swear that I'll pay for the dry cleaning."

Reminded of the stain, I glance at my shoulder and scowl at the small circle. The blond had fallen asleep after an apparently exhausting task of mocking the in-flight movie. Relieved for the resulting quiet, I didn't bother to wake the man when he had slumped to the side and rested his head on my shoulder. It was a mild annoyance compared to when the blond was awake. But I didn't realize Seifer had begun drooling until the captain had announced thirty minutes until landing. Why do I have a bad feeling that Irvine is going to make his own guesses as to what this stain is from...

"**Uncle Squally!!**"

I straighten at the young voice calling for me and easily spot the small girl dressed in bright pink overalls and wearing high pigtails that bounce while she runs. Watching her move straight through a large clump of people in business suits, I smile softly and drop down onto one knee. The four-year-old eventually tackles me with a hug that nearly topples the two of us to the ground, a bad habit that was learned from her grandfather, no doubt. But it's far easier to forgive a child for being so reckless with her hugs.

Done with the greeting, the dark-haired girl pushes back to look at me. "Uncle Squally, Uncle Squally, are you gonna live with us now?"

Meeting her overly serious expression, I reply, "Sorry, Raine, but I'm just here for your Aunt Rinoa's wedding. I told you that on the phone."

"Oh," she says with a disappointed frown.

"One minute in town and you're already breaking Rainy's heart. You should be ashamed, Squall Leonhart."

I glance up at the voice and smile at the attractive woman of short dark brown hair. "Hey, Sis. I thought I told you to get us at the pickup area. You didn't have to park."

"Nonsense. That would've meant waiting an extra few minutes before meeting this new boyfriend of yours." Without shame, she proceeds to look over Seifer with a critical eye. "And I have to say, you aren't what I was expecting."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Seifer says with a charming grin and holds out a hand. "The name is Seifer. And I assume you are Ellone?"

Smiling, Ellone accepts the hand. "You got it in one. It's nice to meet you, Seifer, though I can't say that I've heard much... well, _anything_ about you," she says with a scolding eye in my direction.

Seifer chuckles. "I'm not surprised. Since we first met, it feels like Squall hasn't spoken more than ten sentences to me."

Ellone laughs in agreement, not knowing that the man's 'exaggeration' was very close to being truth.

Standing up, I take Raine's hand in mine and turn my back to the laughing adults. "Our luggage should be here by now."

I take the lead with my niece, the young girl immediately going into details about her all-important role of flower girl in the upcoming wedding. With her dress already bought, it seems like Raine's primary concern is when she'll be able to go flower picking before the event. I smile down at her, recognizing the child's true worry about the matter. Figuring I'll be able to find a nearby park, I assure Raine that I'll take her someplace where she can pick as many flowers as she likes.

"Hey, are you making a date behind my back? With a young lady at that! I'm offended."

Though I glare at Seifer for the comment, Raine giggles and says, "Uncle Squally can't date me. He likes _boys_."

Green eyes widen at the girl's statement, the large man most likely surprised that the four-year-old knows all about my preferences. I enjoy the moment for what it's worth, but in the back of my mind, I wonder if Raine will ever be disgusted with what she accepts so easily now. Placing aside that constant worry, I stop in front of the carrousel that should eventually produce our luggage and I hold tightly onto Raine's hand, knowing just how much the girl would love to hop onto the moving platform.

Seifer walks around me to kneel next to Raine, his large size making the dark-haired girl press shyly against me. "So, your name is Raine?" At her nod, the blond switches on his charming smile which probably shouldn't be used on minors. "Nice to meet you, Raine. My name is Seifer and I'm the 'boy' your Uncle Squall currently likes."

The young girl frowns at him. "You're too big."

"Well, your uncle doesn't think I'm _too _big," Seifer says with a wink in my direction.

"Your brain is certainly too small," I mutter in return, earning a soft laugh from Ellone behind me.

"Cute, princess, but I know you love me anyway."

Raine promptly steps forward to tug on Seifer's shirt sleeve. "Uncle Squally isn't a princess. He's a boy. Daddy says only good girls can be princesses."

Seifer grins widely at the somewhat lisped comment, his eyes brightening in a manner that worries me. By unexpected reflex alone, I find myself smacking the side of his head before he can utter a single sarcastic word in reply. He blinks up at me in surprise. Though I must be showing my own shock at my reaction, I manage to scowl in a silent threat to the blond.

He smiles at the wordless warning, his eyes then shifting back to Raine. "You know, your Uncle Squall told me that you were a smart little girl. I'm impressed. What college do you go to?"

Raine giggles shyly as she shakes her head. "I'm too little for school."

"Are you sure?"

I shake my head at the inane exchange between the two, a small ache building in my stomach at how easily Seifer is integrating himself with the most important people in my family. The fact he spouts lies as if they were truths doesn't help my anxious state. Moving my gaze to the slow movement of luggage, I silently demand for my suitcase to appear and end this moment of torture. That request is ignored, however, as I notice the same horrid mustard-yellow bag that has already pass by twice.

"He seems sweet," Ellone comments quietly, not interrupting the deep conversation at my other side about whether or not Barbie went to college. "Though he's a bit different than your usual sort."

"You don't know what type of guy I like, Elle."

"Hn, I suppose you're right, but I always thought I knew the kind of man you would attach yourself to. I guess I don't know you so well after all. But I don't mind being wrong if it means that you finally met someone you wanted to bring home and introduce to the family. I'm so happy for you."

I frown, wishing I could tell her that she probably knows me too well, but I hold back. She and Dad have always wanted me to settle with someone, and if this sham can hearten them for brief time, then it's worth my inevitable humiliation.

"Nuh-_un_, Ken doesn't like _boys_. He likes _Barbie_."

And with that argument from my niece, I press my free hand to my face and change my assessment to wonder what plague I've brought upon my family.

~ > < ~

I'm slow getting out of Ellone's minivan, the line of cars parked on the street reminding me that Rinoa had decided to hold a party today. A kind of pre-wedding celebration which only Rinoa could get away with and no one would dare argue. It just wouldn't be worth the wasted breath.

"Wow, this is a really nice place. How many millions did it cost your family?"

I glare at the blond for the blunt question and refuse to comment about his fairly accurate guess that the house is overly expensive. To own a two-story house with plenty of square footage in Southern California basically guarantees a large loss of money, but Mom loved this house the moment she had stepped over the threshold. I used to enjoy this house just as much, but that was before cancer took her away from the house and family she loved.

"...ey. Hey, princess!"

I jerk at the sight of a large hand waving in front of my face. Knocking it roughly aside, I glare at Seifer in a silent question of 'what the fuck do you want?'.

He smirks, completely unafraid of me. "Are we standing out here all day or going inside? And before you answer, you should know that Raine has already bolted inside to announce your arrival."

I sigh out a deep breath, readying myself for the inevitable onslaught. I step forward with the intention to move past the large blond, but Seifer moves quickly to wrap an arm around my waist. Before I make a serious move to escape the uncomfortably close hold, Seifer brushes his lips against my ear and whispers, "Am I your lover or not?"

I tense at the touch of his heated breath, but I don't remove his arm. Despite how much I hate it, the bastard is unfortunately right. Resting a hand on his, I squeeze his fingers tightly and warn him, "Just because you are my 'boyfriend', it doesn't mean I like being touched in public."

He hums quietly while nuzzling my neck. "Alright, alright, I get it. I think we're done with the show anyway, so you can stop inflicting pain on my hand."

Curious about his comment, my eyes widen as Seifer pulls away, revealing Ellone and her husband standing on the front porch. Ellone smiles brightly with her hands clasped in front of her; meanwhile, Jonathan has a more uncomfortable expression as he doesn't look directly at us, but a few inches to the right of me. Though accepting of my preferences, the Navy man certainly doesn't care to witness me in action.

"Come _on_, Granddad!"

Everyone turns at the sight of small Raine leading a long-haired man through the front entrance of the house. Laguna bears an amusedly confused smile as he pretends to be dragged along by the girl, but when he glances up at his audience, the smile disappears to momentary surprise as my young looking father recognizes my presence.

"Squall..."

I think to remind him that he knew I was coming today and arriving at this very hour, but I can't bring myself to scold his emotions like that. And he never gives me that chance, either, as I'm quickly enveloped in his arms. With a smile in his voice, my father welcomes me home and asks about my flight in the same breath. I don't reply immediately, and instead enjoy the warmth unique to my father.

Laguna eventually moves back with a hard slap to my shoulder, his dark green eyes meeting mine. "Lord, it's been forever since I've seen you. You look good."

"It's been six months, Dad."

His eyes widen in mock surprise. "Six _months_? Are you avoiding me?"

"Even if I tried, I know you'd be on the next flight to New York."

"Damn right," Laguna states with a loving smile that never fails to sooth my worries. "It's wonderful to see you, son."

I nod once in reply, forever awkward with his open nature.

"Oh, and you brought a friend with you! Are you Squall's boyfriend?"

"That I am, sir," Seifer replies, reminding me of his presence as he reaches past me to offer his hand to my father. "Seifer Almasy."

"Please, call me Laguna," my father responds as he accepts the large hand. "But why are we still out here when there's a party inside? Go ahead and leave your bags in the van. Right now it's time for you to have something to drink, meet the rest of the family, and then you both can tell us all about your relationship," he insists as he proceeds to pull Seifer in the direction of the front door. "And I won't be taking 'no' for an answer."

The large blond glances back at me, and though I'd be much happier running in the opposite direction, I sigh and follow behind Laguna and my 'boyfriend'. One step into the house and I regret not booking a later flight. There are too many people around, all of them mingling with various drinks and snacks in hand. I imagine most are Rinoa's friends from college, though there are a few relatives included in the mix, easy to spot with their disapproving frowns in my direction. Hardly a minute here and I'm ready to go home.

And then there's warmth at my side followed by a steady hand going to my waist, a casual touch that makes me tense further.

"Hey, you okay? You look about ready to hurl."

I glance up into bright green eyes and recognize the true concern reflected there despite the blunt words. "I'm fine," I mutter in reply, silently asking Seifer to reform distance between us. I don't care that we're supposed to be dating and it doesn't matter that it helps to have him serve as a barrier between me and the crowd of people around us. It's the principle of the matter.

Seifer huffs as he backs up a step and raises a hand in an irritated sign that he was no longer touching me.

But with the large man's retreat, I'm immediately spotted as a sudden cry of "**Squally-poo!**" is yelled out. Shortly following the call, an unbalanced body crashes into mine and slim arms wrap around my shoulders in an awkward hug. The smell of alcohol isn't surprising as Rinoa plants a wet kiss at the corner of my lips. "Squall! You're here!"

I gaze into dark brown eyes and force a small smile. "Hello, Rinoa."

The raven-haired beauty beams at my greeting and presses closer. "I knew you would come to my wedding. I knew it."

It's obvious that a brother would go to his sister's wedding, so I know very well that isn't what Rinoa means, but I'll never be able to guess the true thoughts that are bouncing about in her head.

"So, this is the famous step-sister," Seifer says while leaning in behind me and replacing a hand at my waist. Smiling from over my shoulder, he comments, "You're a pretty little thing."

Rinoa blinks up at the man, obviously confused with the presence of the flirting stranger.

Ever helpful, Laguna announces, "Rinoa, this is Squall's boyfriend - Seifer."

While it takes a moment to seep into her brain, the dark-eyed woman eventually looks at me sharply as if I had just stabbed her with a knife, her expression incredulous and angry. "Your _boyfriend_? You brought your _boyfriend_ to _my **wedding**?_"

Expecting this reaction, I lean back against Seifer as my reply, not trusting my voice to speak the lie.

"You... You're _horrible!_ Why can't you be normal for once in your life?! Instead you bring that... that... that _queer_ to my wedding? You've ruined _everything_," she partly screeches as she turns and runs across the room to her fiancé. As she rants and sobs to the bewildered man, I sigh at the dramatics.

"Squall..."

I interrupt my father's attempt to console. "Don't worry about me. You should help to calm her down."

Laguna nods, though his dark green eyes remain filled with worry. "Alright, but don't disappear anywhere before I have the chance to talk with you."

"I'm here all week, Dad."

"And not nearly long enough," he states with a soft smile before he heads over to the hysterical bride-to-be.

"That was a fun reaction," Seifer comments while holding me a touch tighter. "But now I'm curious - is that the groom Miss Theater Club is draped on right now?"

"Yeah," I reply as I brush aside his arm from my waist.

"Huh. And am I the only one who thinks he looks a bit like you?"

The question comes off casual, but when I look up, I meet sharp green eyes that reveal just how much the blond is assuming. I open my mouth, wanting to divert the man from dangerous thoughts, but when I take too long, Seifer smirks as if achieving a great victory.

"You've got an interesting family, princess," he says, repeating the same comment he had already made on the flight here.

"Don't say anything and stop calling me that."

Seifer's smirk widens as his catlike eyes brighten, his coming remark almost visible in the green depths, but he's thankfully interrupted.

"That was _priceless_," the newcomer announces as he slaps his hand hard against Seifer's back and smiles broadly at me. "I told you that this guy was worth the price I had to pay."

I glare at the lean man of wavy auburn hair and a flirting smile. I know I agreed to this game of playing boyfriend, but I'm unable to share Irvine's enjoyment in watching Rinoa run off in tears.

Seifer grins at the long-haired man. "You know, Kinneas, if my price is too high for you, I'd be more than happy to give you a discount," the escort purrs as he proceeds to finger a free lock of curling hair.

His expression wiped clean of his previous smile, Irvine jerks away from the blond. "Hey, that's not funny. You know I don't lean that way. Go waste your moves on Squall."

Not allowing the lanky man to escape, Seifer hangs onto Irvine's arm and teases him with a lisped voice that doesn't fit the broad-shouldered man in the least. After watching the display of flamboyant gayness for a time, I eventually notice green eyes watching me carefully. Once I find myself smiling vaguely, I realize that the large idiot was doing this for me, to ease my anxiousness. So, he can be a decent human being after all. That's somewhat surprising.

"O-oh, Squall," a consoling voice sounds from behind me and soon a warm hand is at my shoulder, encouraging me to turn and face the kindhearted woman. Ellone frowns softly as she tells me, "I was out of the room with Raine, but Xu told me everything. Are you alright? Do you want me to speak with Rinoa?"

"It's alright, Sis. She has her right."

"It may be her wedding, but she certain does** not** have the right to insult both you and your boyfriend. We don't want you to be afraid to bring home the people who are important to you."

I place a hand on Ellone's and silently assure her that Rinoa's outburst didn't affect me like she thinks. The dark-haired woman doesn't show any relief at my gesture. Instead, her frown deepens as she shows her distrust in my ability to tell anyone about my 'hidden' feelings.

Meeting her dark eyes, I tell her, "I'm fine. Really."

"And would you tell me if you weren't?"

I hate that question, and for long as I may live, I never want to answer it.

Catching my scowl, Irvine speaks up for me. "Give him a break, Elle. You know that he isn't the type to gush out his feelings just because you want him to. He needs plenty of alcohol in his system for something like that."

Ellone sighs at the words, the determination in her eyes fading as she smiles softly. "I'm just worried about you, Squall. It's hard with you hiding across the country from us."

I shrug, accustomed to the attempt of a guilt trip.

"Don't worry, fine lady," Irvine says while wrapping an arm around Seifer's shoulders. "You've got me and this guy to watch over Squall and keep him out of trouble."

Seifer doesn't add to the statement except to smirk broadly, a lustful suggestion of just how he would 'keep me out of trouble'.

Ellone smiles happily at the comment, as if reminded that I'm not alone in the world. Really, I'm not that helpless that I need idiots watching my back.

"Oh good, I see Irvine found you," my father says as he approaches. At his side is a dark-haired woman dressed in a simple white gown that highlights all of her best features. Despite being in her forties, she is still a lovely woman and obviously Rinoa's mother. "Seifer, I'd like you to meet Julia, Squall's step-mother."

Holding out a limp hand, Julia directs an enchanting smile to the handsome blond. "It's a pleasure to meet one of Squall's friends."

Seifer takes the hand, and after a light kiss to long fingers, he says, "Actually, I'm Squall's _boyfriend_."

"Of course you are. You can't be his _girl_friend after all," Julia states with a laugh.

"No, I mean I'm dating him. We're lovers," Seifer insists with humored determination.

Julia just laughs. "Oh, boys these days. Always making up new slang. 'Brothers', 'homies', and now 'lovers'? I can hardly keep up."

"I don't think you understand--"

I stop the man with a hand pressed against his chest. He looks disappointed at the game being cut short, but I really don't want to be responsible for upsetting both Rinoa and Julia in the same day.

"Well, I'm sorry to greet you and run, but Rinoa needs me right now," Julia says with a scolding eye in my direction. "We can talk more during dinner."

"Oh, we will," Seifer replies with a charming smirk, a dangerous expression that renews my regret for ever listening to Irvine.

As Julia leaves, Laguna smiles weakly at the blond. "I'm sorry about that. Once her mind is set..."

Seifer simply grins as if he had found a new fun game to play.

Taking the man's smile as one of forgiveness, Laguna brightens and says, "Enough about our family. I haven't heard a single word about you yet. What do you do for a living? Do you work with Squall?"

Finally Seifer's expression flickers to one of uncertainty, and before he manages to say more than a single stuttered word, I announce to my father, "He's an escort."

Of course I'm stared at for the abrupt reply. My father just appears stunned, his mouth slightly parted as if deciding whether I was joking or not. Ellone bares a similar expression, but she also shows her displeasure at me being sarcastic toward a serious question. Meanwhile, in addition to disbelief, Irvine looks a touch angry for ruining the act. As for Seifer... after his initial surprise, he smiles softly with an odd sense of pride before he wraps an arm around my waist, something that is becoming a bad habit of his.

"I'm afraid that's the truth, sir," Seifer says, voicing no shame in his profession. "I got into the business while trying to pay for college and found out that I make more money than people with a Bachelors on their resumes. While it's something I don't want to do forever, it's helping me to make a large nest egg for the future."

Uncertain how to take the information, Laguna looks to me. "And you don't mind?"

I shrug. "It's a job."

"And it's how we first met," Seifer adds, laughing at the ridiculous truth to his statement.

Ellone stares at us with wide eyes and a hand covering her mouth. "Squall, you didn't..."

"No, I didn't hire him," I say firmly, though I feel sick at telling such half-truths. "I'm not so desperate that I'd actually pay for this asshole to annoy me."

Irvine sniggers into his hand, knowing exactly how much he and our other friends paid Seifer to harass me.

"Oh, well, as long as you are safe about it," Laguna manages to say, still uncertain how to take the fact that I'd date an escort. I suppose I am pushing the limits with him - an antisocial, gay son who has a whore for a boyfriend... it's a wonder I still have a father.

With a kind smile, Seifer adds, "If it makes you feel any better, I did finish college with a poly sci major. I know I won't get very far with my background, but I have fun helping people into positions of power and keeping them there."

Dark green eyes brighten immediately. "You majored in political sciences? What a coincidence, that's what I studied back in my youth. You'll have to tell me what they are teaching these days. Oh, and I'll certainly have to introduce you to some friends of mine. Maybe if you got a job out here..."

"Dad, I'm not moving back to California," I state a touch more harshly than I intended.

Laguna just smiles, not showing any hurt. "I know, I know, but you can't blame a father for trying."

I shake my head, knowing that I do have a right to 'blame' him, but that will never stop him from these attempts to bring me back home.

"But seriously, Seifer, have you looked into getting a... different job?"

The large blond grins. "No, not yet. But I did entertain a Senator once. She promised me an internship during the heat of the moment, but I doubt that she'd admit to knowing me these days."

While my father stares wide-eyed and Irvine laughs loudly, I cringe at the open nature of my 'boyfriend'. I have a bad feeling it's going to be a very long week that should result in a lot of apologies on my part. This idiot blond is going to end up costing me more than he's worth.

~ > < ~

"And for a onetime fee--"

"Stuff it, Seifer. I don't want to hear it," I growl at the large moron lounging on the bed... The single bed in the room... My old room, actually, and the only bedroom left in this damn house given visiting relatives. My trusting father hardly thought twice about having my 'boyfriend' and me stay together like this. No, us going to a hotel would be a far worse situation than me sharing a bed with another man. To Laguna, it's probably a forgone conclusion that we're already having sex, so there was no reason to fight it. Fuck him for being logical when it does me no good.

Seifer sighs at me as he stands up from the bed. "Are you going to continue this hostile act all week? I mean, was it really that bad showing me off as your lover today?"

I pause in the task of unpacking my clothes and glare at the blond. "You asked my _grandmother _if she knew the difference between sucking and blowing."

Seifer smirks as he steps closer. "What's wrong with that? She didn't seem to get my joke about the milkmaid and the--"

"I _heard_ the joke and I'm not interested in reliving that event."

"Your dad thought it was hilarious."

"My father is hardly a connoisseur of jokes."

"Bah, you're no fun."

I shrug as I return to hanging up my clothing. I don't particularly care if I'm not entertaining enough for him.

Abruptly a strong hand grabs my arm and pulls me away from the closet just as the blond closes the door. Once I'm turned around and pressed back against the wall, I stare into keen catlike eyes and I strangely feel like a trapped mouse.

"Tell me about your prissy step-sister."

"Wh... what?"

Seifer smirks, an interested gleam highlighting his eyes. "I want you to explain a couple of things about her. For instances, if she hates you so much, why did she greet you at the door in such a friendly way? And why does her lover boy appear to be your clone, granted a low-quality clone?"

I want to lie, I want to shove Seifer away, and I want to get the earliest flight back to New York, but instead, I find myself saying, "She wants too much."

"Oh? Is that because she wants you?"

It's odd hearing those words spoken out loud in another person's voice. I don't know why no one else has noticed her fixation with me. My father and Ellone thought it was wonderful that we got along so well, Julia was oblivious as always, and Irvine had his own troubles during our high school days. Aside from us being step-siblings, I couldn't respond to Rinoa's affections for me, something that eventually led me to realize that I preferred men. I'm tempted to thank her for that someday, a day when she wouldn't slap me for the words.

"Hey, princess, I'm trying to have a meaningful conversation here. Does she want you or not?"

I move my gaze away from him to stare at the far corner. "It was just a childish crush. She's getting married."

Seifer says nothing for a time, but moves in closer to add to my discomfort. "But she'd rather marry you, right? I'll bet that's why the slut hates you for being gay."

"She's not a 'slut'."

"Hey, I'm a slut myself, so I know one when I see one."

Incredulous, I glare at the man just in time to notice that he was far too close for anything but one intention. Surprisingly moist lips caress mine, and after a wasted moment spent on deciding if I was really tasting kiwi-flavored lip-gloss, I jerk back and accidentally smack my head against the wall. I hiss out a pained curse, then meet narrowed green eyes. I know I should yell at the man for taking this 'boyfriend' thing too far, but Seifer beats me to the punch as he abruptly pushes away.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. You're not gay, are you?"

I stare at him for the question, clueless as to how he came to that incredibly wrong conclusion.

"How pathetic, you're just pretending to be queer to drive away your neurotic sister. Is Kinneas in on this? Wait, what am I saying, he has to be. Isn't he your good buddy-bud since elementary school or some crap like that? I swear, I'm going to throttle him for getting me involved in this fucking mess."

Thoroughly confused with his anger, I straighten to better meet his vibrant glare. "I'm not faking this, you asshole. I don't like being with women and I love being fucked. Is that 'queer' enough for you, or do I need to sing the songs of some Broadway musical to better prove myself?"

Seifer continues to watch me with a suspicious eye. "Then why are you so adverse to me?"

I roll my eyes at the question. "Don't put me on the same level as everyone else in New York who wants to be fucked by you."

He tilts his head in a deceivingly boyish manner. "You want me to fuck you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. You said--"

I interrupt him, not wanting to hear how his mind translated my words. "Whatever you heard me say, you know very well that I didn't mean it."

"Tch, then you aren't gay."

"... Wait a moment... Then, in your special world, I have to be attracted to you to be gay?"

"Of _course_," Seifer replies with a swing of his arms.

I press a hand to my face, unable to decide on the numerous comebacks flying around in my head.

Perhaps realizing his arrogance, the blond backs up a step and clears his throat. "It's not just that. I mean, you don't have to wiggle your ass for me or anything, but men who like men should be attracted to handsome guys like myself."

... Or maybe I just don't realize the extent of his arrogance. "Fine. You're handsome. Does that help your dick to grow a bit longer?"

Against my intentions, Seifer smiles brightly at the comment. "I don't know. You wanna look?"

Growling in frustration, I attempt to return to unpacking, something that turns out to be a horrible idea when a heavy weight presses against my exposed back and two strong arms trap me as Seifer pushes me against the closet door. He's too close like this, his smell of faded cologne and faint body odor mildly arousing me after too many years since I've been surrounded by such a masculine scent.

"Alright, I think I get your clue that you aren't interested in me, but just so you know, I can be a safe release for you."

I scoff. "I'd hardly call you 'safe'."

Seifer laughs deeply, his lips lightly caressing my ear. "It's just an offer, princess."

"Then why don't you go offer yourself to one of Rinoa's friends."

With a disgusted huff, the large man pushes away and walks toward the bed. "Please, I have some standards. And try to remember that I'm _your _boyfriend for this week. It wouldn't look good for me to play around like that."

Turning around in preparation to argue, I'm presented with the sight of Seifer unbuttoning his shirt, apparently getting ready for bed. I can't do anything for a time, my eyes morbidly attracted to the body people pay good money to own, if only for a night. And even with this brief examination, I can clearly see why people would waste their cash on this well-built and attractive man. Once his shirt is dropped onto the bed, I unconsciously lick my lips, reminding myself of the strange taste of fruit.

"Do you wear lip-gloss?" I ask out loud, immediately wishing I hadn’t.

Seifer looks back to grin at me. "I'm surprised that you noticed from such a brief kiss."

"But... why kiwi?"

The blond breaths a laugh while rubbing his bare shoulder in an uncommonly shy action. "Because I ran out of raspberry?"

"... ...?"

"Hey, it's nothing special. I've discovered that people are attracted to moist, shiny lips, and a touch of flavor encourages a deeper taste for most people. But you, of course, have to be different."

I shake my head, unable to believe the lengths this man will go to heighten his sexual presence.

"Now, the question remains - why _are_ you so different?"

I scowl at the obtuse man. "I thought we had already covered this."

"Yeah, but that was before you gave me a heavy look-over. Admit it, you like what you see."

I want to argue, but at that moment, Seifer turns to face me directly, revealing a gold ring in his right nipple. I don't realize I'm staring at the taunting sight until deep laughter snaps me out of it. God, it's be too long since I've been with another man.

"Twenty-first birthday present," Seifer states as he fingers the ring, his voice taking on a rough sultry edge.

Purposely looking at green eyes and nowhere else, I tell him, "If you're that desperate for sex, go to a bar or something. If anyone finds out, I'll just tell them the whole truth about us."

"Don't give me that," Seifer argues as he abandons his seductive act and proceeds to unzip his slacks. "I'm a professional. And while I don't need to have sex every day to live, every now and again, I spot a person who could use a hard dick up their ass and I think that's something you've needed for a long time now."

I bite back the offended comeback I want to give, and with an arm around my waist, I look away from overly sharp eyes. "I've told you once and I'll tell you again - I don't want an escort. But now that you're here, Dad and Elle are happy to see me with someone, and that means they've stopped asking too many questions about my business. I'll keep up this act for them and that's all I need from you. So just... stop doing this other crap."

After a time of silence, Seifer chuckles and replies, "We'll see what I can do about that, princess."

A flying object then catches my eye and I watch as his dark slacks land near the man's unopened bag. Reluctantly, I look to the escort and glare at the blond clad only in dark green boxers. He smirks at my annoyance, but says nothing as he tosses his shirt to join the discarded pants. He then thumbs his boxers, but after getting an apparently satisfying expression from me, Seifer laughs while simply adjusting the last piece of clothing.

"Are you joining me or not?"

I frown at the suggestive question. "I have work."

Seifer sits down onto the mattress and leans back against the headboard. "Give me a break, lover boy. It's after midnight and we had an early flight today."

"I'm not tired," I state as I move to the desk and open my laptop.

"What type of work do you do, anyway?"

"... ..."

"Now, now, no secrets. You know that eventually someone will ask me questions about your job."

"... I'm an editor for a publishing company. I doubt you would know the place."

"Hn, probably not. But I have to say that I'm impressed that you found a job that suits your anal nature."

I scoff at him, but in a moment of weakness, I ask him, "Will it bother you for me to do some work?"

"Nah, I sleep more during the day, so the lights aren't a big problem." Seifer shifts in the bed, stretching out his body for a night of rest. "The real question, though, is if you're okay with us sharing the same bed."

"Just stay on your side."

Seifer laughs lazily. "I don't know - I left my Pooky at home, so I may need to use you as a substitute."

"... ..."

"Well, don't stay up too late, princess - it isn't good for your complexion."

I don't bother replying and instead focus on the work in front of me. I had managed to get through the book once with general corrections, and though I didn't care for the cliché plot flow and obvious ending, I'll have to read through it a few more times to fix everything I can with it. But a chapter into the book, I find myself unable to concentrate as a soft roll of snoring sounds behind me.

Turning in my chair, I watch the sleeping man and my mind empties of all thought. It's strange and oddly peaceful to have him there, resting in complete comfort within my presence. I know it's not real and that I'll be alone again after this week, but for this one moment, it's calming to forget why I'm not allowed to have the blond and simply watch the unconscious man. Like most people, Seifer appears younger with a touch of innocence while asleep, but as time progresses and he begins to dream, his lips curl into a faint smirk, revealing his true predator nature.

Sighing at the man's inability to be decent even in sleep, I return to my laptop and ask myself what I did to Irvine for him to curse me with this unpredictable blond.

{Continued}


	2. Chapter 2

[Seifer]

"Seifer..."

Smiling at the soft call of my name, I brush aside dark silken hair and proceed to lick the inner curve of the revealed ear. The body trapped within my arms squirms at the assault, a purring moan escaping the pleasure-starved man. Encouraged by that unexpected noise, I let my hand journey down across smooth flesh, but I fall short of my ultimate target when a cold hand grabs my wrist in a clawed hold.

"_Seifer_," the voice calls out again, the soft purr replaced by a harsher growl. "_Wake the **fuck** up_."

"I'm awake," I murmur into cool skin, and then prove my point by grinding my hard-on against the beauty's uncovered hip. "I'm _very_ awake..."

Without warning or reserve, a sharp elbow lands hard at the center of my chest, the strike painful enough to steal away my breath as I'm forced to release my partner. Blinking at the escape of the slim man, I watch as Squall crawls clumsily from the bed, his hands busy at the task of adjusting his boxers back into their proper placement. It's with grave disappointment that I notice that he's hardly aroused after being molested by me, not at all like the eager sex kitten in my dreams. Well, that sucks.

Spinning around, Squall pins me with a frozen glare. "You... _You_..."

With a sigh, I place an arm over my face to block out bothersome light and consider the chances of going back to sleep. "Sorry 'bout that. You were more receptive in my dream."

A deep throated growl sounds in response.

I smile, wondering how I managed to transform that angered rumble into a seductive purr. "Hey, it's not my fault that you bring out the creative side of my subconscious. And with you being so fucking cold, I'm not left with many other options."

Replying with a simple snort, Squall moves away from the bed and steps to the closet. Curious, I lift my arm far enough to view the dark-haired beauty and watch as he removes his tattered shirt with a vicious tug and an incomprehensible mutter. Given the fact that I wasn't awake last night to witness his undressed state, I'm impressed with my imagination's accuracy about the flawless skin and lean muscles. But then the moment is ruin as, in a surprisingly quick move, Squall looks over his shoulder to glare at me. I wince apologetically, not really sorry, but certainly disappointed that I had been caught too quickly. His scowl deepens at the action before he steps into the closet and shuts the door for momentary privacy.

"Lord, if only that ass wasn't frozen shut," I say to myself as I curl to the side and pull the sheets in close to my body. And then, with sadistic interest, I glance over to the alarm clock. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. _Squall_, it's six in the fucking morning!"

The closet opens with a quiet creak. "I know."

"Who in their right mind gets up this early?" I ask while rolling over, but my question is answered without a word from the dark-haired annoyance. In the brief time hidden from view, Squall had changed into a tank top and tight shorts that hide little from the imagination. Groaning quietly at the sight of muscular thighs, I'm reminded of my unsatisfied libido as I'm forced to adjust myself under the sheets. "Never mind. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're one of _those_ people."

A dark eyebrow raised with interest, Squall asks, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a clean freak with an anal streak. That you also get up too damned early to run or whatever else you do in those gay-ass shorts, well, it just fits."

Sighing at my logic, Squall moves to the door. "Breakfast is at eight o'clock sharp. If you want food, I suggest being downstairs on time. And Seifer," he adds with a hand on the doorknob and a glare focused in my direction, "Don't even think of jacking off in my bed. The bathroom is just across the hall."

"That's cold of you, princess. I wouldn't leave a mess if you'd give me a little help," I suggest with a touch of true hopefulness.

"The only help I'd give you is with a pair of dull scissors," Squall mutters in reply as he leaves the small bedroom and closes the door behind him.

I laugh deeply at the harsh reply, finding true enjoyment in the exchange of words. It's been a long time since I've been given a chance to be myself with a customer. Too often I have to play the perfect man, whatever that means to the person paying my price. And though I enjoy the benefits typically involved, I also get drained from playing the refined doctor or respected lawyer that I'm supposed to be. This is certainly a first to be introduced as exactly who I am... well, aside from the sham of being the dark-haired beauty's boyfriend. It almost feels like I'm on vacation.

Moving under the sheets, I quickly realize that it's pointless to try and ignore my hopelessly aroused state. Unfortunately, I'm not feeling brave enough to masturbate here and now. Squall seems the type to not believe my word and check the sheets for stains once he returns, but while I can assume that far, I can't even begin to imagine the subsequent punishment once I'm found guilty. All I know is that it won't be the good kind of punishment. Groaning with irritation, I get out of bed and grab my pants to better cover myself in the chance that someone is wandering in the hallway outside. Heaven help me if one of Rinoa's friends had decided to wake up early this morning. But apparently Squall is the only insane person in the house since I don't hear anyone stirring as I limp in the direction of the bathroom.

After I dump my travel bag onto the counter, I turn on the shower for a nice warm flow. My pants and boxers are quickly stripped off before I grab my necessities from the small bag and jump into the still heating water. Facing directly in the lukewarm flow, I start into the ever fun processing of deciding on an image to use for whacking off. As of late, I have been using memories of newest bunny at one of the bars I frequent. Shiny brown hair, a body that stops traffic, and enough energy to tire out any sex addict.

But as I wipe water from my face and blink at the tiled wall ahead of me, I find myself thinking of pressing a different dark-haired beauty to the wall, Squall's hard, muscular legs wrapped securely at my waist.

"Thank God the prude isn't psychic," I mutter as I press a hand against cold tile and place my other hand at my cock. It's almost too easy to envision Squall leaning against the wall before me, memories of last night giving me just the right imagery. I can still taste him, the warm sweetness of strawberry cake an interesting contradiction to the icy facade of the sultry brunet. A shame he had to pull away and look at me with that terrified gleam to his eyes.

Shaking my head, I rid myself of the interfering picture and go back to the sex kitten I need to finish the job Squall had inadvertently started. I figure he would squirm and hold back his cries, typical of a man who deprives himself of too much, but he really wouldn't want to escape. No, he's a man who needs to keep up appearances no matter how much he really does need a cock up his ass.

With firm hold and strong strokes along my erection, I picture lifting Squall up against the tile, one of his legs encircling my waist as he finds his balance with his other foot propped on the edge of the bathtub. He'd flush at the awkward positioning, probably not accustomed to the more adventurous side of sex. Good thing I'm around to show him new tricks. I tighten my hand further, knowing the reserved man must be tighter than most, but I have a feeling he can take it. With every thrust and draw back, the muscles of his legs and anus would squeeze painfully tight around me, the cautious brunet afraid of being dropped at any moment. But despite the water and steam, I wouldn't let him fall. It'd be a sin to let sex end on a bad note like that.

Eventually, Squall would tire on me, his head lolling forward onto my shoulder where he'd surrender to the urge to taste me. He'd be meek at first with simple licks and soft kisses, but as we both near completion, he'd want to show his anger at me for exposing this side of him, for making him _want_ this. Lips at the base of my neck, he'd bite to the point of making me groan in bliss and pain, until...

Lost in the visions of my aggressive princess, I reach my peak in a fast and unexpected explosion that leaves me briefly disoriented and short of breath. Glaring down at the spots of fluid on my hand, I mutter tiredly, "Fuck, he'd probably kill me if I was the one to come first..."

Once regaining some energy, I go through my daily rituals to polish up my appearance for the hours ahead. Unfortunately, the mix of little sleep and soothing hot water saps the last of my energy. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I curse my forgetfulness for leaving my clean clothes back in the bedroom, but I can't imagine offending anyone in the short trip across the hall. At least this time I don't have my flagpole raised.

With no trouble I get to the small bedroom and toss my old clothes in the direction of my suitcase. Flinging aside sheets from the bed, I plop down onto the bed and decide to steal back an hour of sleep that Squall had taken from me. I'm clean and presentable at this point, so Squall can wake me whenever he gets back from doing his thing. Sighing and curling into cool sheets, I silently hope that the difficult guy doesn't decide to let me starve. Things can only get worse if I get hungry.

~ > < ~

"Holy damn," I grumble while lounging back into the wide and not-so-fluffy couch. "I think I need a nap after all of this."

An amused breath sounds behind me, Squall apparently never one to be sympathetic to my pain. Pressing a hand against my forehead, I dully wonder if there is actually a chance for me to catch some sleep before the little demon wakes up from her nap. With everyone else leaving to see some boring college football game, I had inadvertently signed myself up for babysitting duty along with Squall. I didn't mind at first, thinking it'd be easy to watch over a four-year-old girl. How in the world I ended up playing 'horsie' for nearly an hour, I don't know, but it has to be Squall's fault. And after that, there was the chaos that resulted from Raine's brilliant idea to make a wedding cake for 'Auntie Rinoa'. Let it be noted that children and frosting do not mix.

"Move your hand."

Following the order before thinking about it, I stare at the brunet and watch him bend down closer to me. Sinful thoughts enter my mind before I notice the washcloth in his hand.

"Half of your face is blue," Squall states before rubbing the warm cloth against my cheek. "I think Raine managed to stay cleaner than you with that frosting."

"Hey, she was the one who attacked first."

"You instigated it."

"But she called me a 'doo-doo head' and you let her get away with it," I argue, wincing as he finishes his task with hard scrubs.

"I can't scold her for being right," he replies seriously.

"You're a cold bitch, Leonhart."

Of all things, that comment makes the complicated man smile as he begins to move away. Not done with him, I wrap an arm around his waist and drag him close once again. He stares down at me with neutral gray eyes, and I find myself lost for a moment when Squall decides to not fight out of my hold. Given his hostilities and ruthless words, I tend to forget how handsome this guy is, better than average by far. Everything about him is refined and delicate with his skin made paler by dark chestnut hair, his movements made graceful by his slim frame, and his words made entrancing with a soft tenor voice. But his eyes alone add the touch of ice that hardens each of his expressions into something harsh and cold, something the fire in me hungers to destroy.

"Was there something you wanted, Seifer?"

I smile at his bored tone. "You know what I want, princess."

"Didn't you get enough this morning?"

"Hey, I apologized for that. What will it take for you to forgive me?"

His eyes narrow into an impressive glare that causes a chill to crawl all the way down my spine.

Removing my arm from his waist, I move back against the cushions and lift my hands in a sign of defeat. "Alright, I admit that I'm a horrible person. But you can't blame me for being friendly when you look so good in silk."

"... ..."

"Pale blue is definitely your color," I add, enjoying the way his right eye twitches slightly in irritation.

Apparently beyond words at this point, Squall renews his attempt to reach the kitchen and get rid of his cloth currently stained blue. With no reason to be subtle, I watch his departure and focus on the slight sway of his ass. It's with some surprise that I realize that, had Squall walked into a club before this whole messy situation, I would have been on him before he could order his first drink. And since I know that I have good taste...

"Hey, Squally-boy."

Though there's a delay at my call, the dark-haired beauty eventually shows himself and leans against the framed opening between the rooms. Arms crossed and tightened lips ready to scowl when necessary, Squall glares at me in a silent 'what?'.

"Sorry to interrupt your Suzie-homemaker moment, but I've been wondering something. Why didn't you bring your real boyfriend here?"

Dark eyebrows knit in confusion. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Come on, with an ass like yours? You must have some guy you keep on a leash. I'll bet you even have him trained to hump your leg on command."

An incredulous gaze focused on me, Squall asks, "How can you possibly function in the real world?"

"I manage," I state with a smirk. "And I notice that you aren't denying anything."

With a barely heard snarl, the stormy-eyed man replies, "Then listen closely - I don't have a boyfriend, or a fuck-buddy, or anything else that your damaged brain can come up with. There is _no one_."

"Why is that?"

Squall straightens at the question, most likely because of my suddenly serious tone. It's fun to tease him about this situation, but now that I'm here and stuck with a sore back from activities not related to sex, I have to wonder why I was hired in the first place. There has to be a good reason this pretty boy doesn't have a lover, especially when he seems to be a family-oriented man who would want to attach himself to someone.

After a long time of silence, I prod, "Well?"

Eyes lowered, Squall declares, "It's none of your business."

"Of course it isn't, but how does that stop me from wanting to know? You have to admit it's strange. You're fucking gorgeous, too damn smart, and apparently successful if I can believe your father's bragging. Why hasn't some high-class queer claimed you as his bitch yet?"

"... ..."

I sit up straighter on the couch to show my true interest in this matter. "There has to be a reason, princess, and I'm going to find out sooner or later. Why not make this easier on yourself?"

His lips press firmly together in thought, and after a long moment, he turns his head toward the kitchen, efficiently hiding his face from me. "I won't let myself."

"You won't let yourself do what? Answer any of my questions?"

"No. I won't... I can't be with anyone."

For a stunned minute, I stare at the brunet who seems smaller than usual as he hugs himself even tighter with slim arms. "You can't...? What kind of fucking answer--"

"Uncle Squall..."

The quiet call from the stairs cuts my rant short since I technically shouldn't swear in front of the little one. It doesn't matter, anyway, as I've already lost my tenuous connection with the stubborn brunet, his attention now completely focused on Raine. Squall moves quickly across the room, meeting his young niece just when she reaches the bottom of the stairway. With one fisted hand rubbing her eyes, Raine stretches out her other arm to grab onto her uncle's hand.

"Raine, I thought you were going to take a nap."

"But, Uncle Squall, I just _took_ a nap. I'm not tired no more," she declares with pleading eyes, as if being sent back to her room would be worse than a prison sentence. The fact that she was upstairs for, at most, twenty minutes doesn't seem to matter.

Squall smiles softly, already won over by the little girl despite the weak argument. "Alright. Then what did you want to do?"

"Can we watch my movie?"

I look in the direction of where she points and I pale at the sight of the blue box with shiny silver lettering. My horror deepens when Squall simply nods his permission and Raine rushes to the couch. With some effort she climbs onto the end opposite of me, but my attention is more focused on Squall and his opening of the DVD case. And though I'm blessed with the perfect view of his ass when he bends over to place the disc into the player, I still question him the moment he sits on the couch between me and his niece.

"Do I really have to sit through 'Cinderella'?"

Gray eyes shift in my direction, and with a vindictive purposefulness, Squall lifts the remote in plain view before hitting the 'play' button.

"Oh _Hell_, no. I'll go watch porn or something in another room," I say as I lean forward in an attempt to escape, but a surprisingly strong hand on my thigh stops me in mid-motion.

"I give her ten minutes before falling asleep," Squall whispers past my ear, his unexpected closeness creating deep shivers throughout my body.

"Even if you're right, then what?" I ask, my voice low and rough.

He seems startled by the question as he moves back and jerks his hand away from my leg. The corner of his lips twitch into a disapproving frown, but for once, it's not directed at me. His blue-gray eyes focused inward, Squall stares at his hand as if he had been betrayed by a loyal servant.

Well, fuck me - I didn't think that the overly serious brunet was actually being affected by my persistent closeness.

Feeling smug, I decide that I can suffer through the kiddie version of a chick flick at least this once. But more importantly, I realize that I can't give Squall the spare moment to collect himself and become colder than ever. Grinning to myself, I slump back into the pillows and place an arm at the back of the couch, happily ignoring the irritated look from Squall. Soon enough, I'll change his attitude into something far more amiable. It's just a question of time.

~ > < ~

"Oh, _please_, as if that could ever happen."

With a roll of blue-gray eyes at my comment, Squall lifts the remote to turn off the DVD player, that being his full extent of movement allowed with the sleeping girl on his lap. Against his belief, Raine had managed to stay awake throughout the movie until the final roll of the credits. Granted, she did fall asleep a couple times, but whenever the movie was halted, she bolted awake and whined with peevish anger at her movie being turned off. And thus, I had to sit through the whole animated thing.

"Don't tell me that you believe in that 'love at first sight' bullshit?"

Surprisingly, Squall hesitates before saying, "It's possible."

"You've got to be kidding me. I thought you would be too smart to fall for that kind of romantic crap."

With a slight frown and his gaze avoiding mine, he brushes stray hairs from Raine's face.

Scoffing, I continue to say, "It's never really love, but lust when you first set eyes on a person. Love can't happen until you actually talk with the guy or gal, and I'm not talking about that stupid sing-along between Cinderella and her closet-fag. What happens when Cinderella discovers on their wedding night that Charming actually prefers fucking sheep? Do you think she 'loves' him enough to bend over and say 'baaa'?"

A choking breath sounds and I watch Squall cover a hand over his mouth, not quite fast enough to hide his smile at my random statement. Proud at the nearly impossible accomplishment, I smirk broadly as I risk moving my arm closer to him, a bare inch from wrapping around slim shoulders.

"Well, that's my argument. Why do you think it's possible to find love that easily?"

Squall removes his hand, all traces of his previous smile gone. "I don't really, but sometimes... it's just nice to think it does."

And right there, his voice matches his previous tone before we were interrupted by the unexpected movie break. It's so tempting to use this chance and ask again about his earlier comment, but by the cold sheen to his eyes, I know that I won't receive an answer with a direct question. Everything seems to be about timing when it comes to avoiding this man's walls.

Instead of questioning him further, I comment, "Sure it's nice to believe in finding love without any effort, but I have a feeling that both you and I have learned the lessons which teach otherwise."

Stormy eyes narrow in vague hurt before Squall suddenly says, "The others should be back soon. I need to order the pizza."

It's a cheap and obvious ploy to avoid my questions, but I give the brunet that escape, hoping to catch him off guard another time. Making certain I brush my arm against his neck as I stand, I watch as Squall readjusts his niece so that he can escape and she can sleep directly on the couch cushions. How she can remain asleep during that awkward maneuvering, but wake the second her movie was stopped before it finished, I'll never know.

We then both walk to the kitchen, myself needing something to drink and Squall wanting to hunt down the coupons for pizza which his father mentioned were 'in a drawer or something'. With a bottle of beer in hand, I briefly watch Squall riffle through a couple of drawers that were packed with junk, a fact that made the brunet grumble about three-year-old wire and half-dead batteries. Eventually bored with that, my eyes are then attracted to the middle island of the kitchen where most of our morning was spent. I can't remember how it came about, but shortly after 'horsie time', Raine had asked if we could make her aunt a wedding cake. I was in mid-scoff when Squall had agreed to her suggestion, the bastard apparently unable to deny his niece any request that didn't involve ponies.

Made of two-layers of simple white cake mix, the true character of the dessert comes from its decoration. It's hard not to smile at the painfully bright blue flowers that Raine had drawn onto the cake with her fingers. I sadly admit to adding the butterfly to one of her flowers, but it was hardly by my freewill. The combination of Raine's pleading gaze and Squall's deadly glare ensured my reluctant cooperation in the mess of a cake.

But the real surprise for me was watching Squall both bake and add his touches of decoration to the cake. The bastard actually knew what he was doing. And while I was tied up defending myself from a child with frosting, Squall had created a fairly complex border for the flowery scene. He had even added a few details to the butterfly I had done. It made me briefly wonder if he was trying to impress his step-sister, but when Raine's eyes had brightened at the sight of 'her' cake, I instantly realized the reason for his extra effort.

Afterward, however, was the real pain. Raine sent upstairs, I was enlisted to help clean the kitchen that was an absolute mess after a storm of flour, several runaway eggs, and the battle with frosting. It's almost disappointing that there aren't any signs left to prove all that had taken place. We should have taken pictures.

The sound of light steps redirects my attention from the cake and I notice Squall about to leave the kitchen. "Hey, where are you going?"

"The coupon isn't here," Squall replies without stopping. "I'm going to check his study."

I watch the dark-haired beauty disappear around the corner, and after a quick swig of my beer, I decide to join the man. It's not like I have anything better to do than to stare at the handsome brunet. Since he had gotten a head start on me, it takes me a couple of tries before I find the right room where Squall has already continued his search behind a large oak desk. Not wanting to interrupt his hunt, I glance around at the several tall wooden bookcases that surround the room, but when I recognize a few books that I had read during college, I quickly decide to not bother examining the overly dull titles.

Soon enough, my eye is caught by the open wall closest to the desk where a large number of framed photographs are displayed. Stepping to the wall, I don't waste much of my attention on the professional photos of the family, though I do find some amusement in Squall's refusal to smile in the pictures that seem to date back to the awkward middle school years. Of more interest are the random selection of photos, most of Squall and his father. Again, Squall doesn't reveal that rare smile of his, but instead of a stiff pose, he appears relaxed with the touch of his father, Laguna holding his son close in nearly every photo.

My eyes journey down the collection of pictures and I hold back some laughter at the idea that Laguna was able to convince his son into everything from fishing trips, to marathons, and even into joining boy scouts. But soon I'm distracted as I notice a frame that had dropped to the floor, a corner on the back printed neatly with the description of 'Raine and Squall'. Picking it up, I'm stunned for a moment when I don't see the expected sight of Squall holding his niece. Instead, it's a picnic scene with a brightly smiling boy being held in the overly thin arms of a woman smiling with absolute delight. So, there _was_ a time when Squall knew how to be happy.

"Is this your mother?"

The sounds of shuffling paper ends before a reluctant grunt comes from the brunet.

"I figured - you got some of her better features. Why didn't you mention that little Rainy was named after your mother?"

"... ..."

"Alright, stupid question, but it still would've been nice to know. Anyway, how old were you when this was taken?"

"... Almost nine."

"Looks like you were actually a cute kid," I say as I bend down to place the photo onto the nail it had fallen from. Turning around to face Squall, I notice a pained gleam to his eyes and the slight bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallows hard. It's not difficult to guess the reason behind his new mood swing. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know that your mother was still an off-limits topic for you."

"No, that's not..." Lips tight, Squall works his jaw slightly before saying, "I hate that photo. I thought Dad got rid of it."

"That's kind of cold. It's a great picture of you and your mother, and you seemed really happy back then. Why would he get rid of something like that?"

"Because it was a lie," he states while standing up from behind the desk. "And I can't find that fucking coupon. I'll just look up their number in the phonebook."

I move quickly, trapping Squall behind the desk before he can run away from yet another conversation with me. "Forget the pizza. Why is a picture of you smiling with your mother a lie?"

Eyes of cutting ice glare at me and silently demand for me to get out of his way.

"Don't give me that look, princess. You can't say something like that and expect me to let it go."

His right eye twitches, but his scowl lightens into something more resigned as he acknowledges that he was at fault for making the comment. His eyes shifting to the desktop, he fingers an expensive looking pen before saying, "That picture was taken when my father brought her home from the hospital. They never bothered to tell me that she came home to die."

A whispered word of 'shit' leaves me, a curse at myself for not guessing that only something truly terrible would bother Squall after all of these years.

Looking up at my swearing, Squall glares at me with brilliant blue-gray, his eyes flashing with cold anger. "The me in that picture thought that the doctors had finally cured my mother, but she died a month later. That's why it's a fucking lie. Are you happy now?"

A spark of irritation ignites something within me and I step close to Squall, quickly grabbing onto his wrists before he can think to push me away. "Of course I'm not _happy_, you idiot. How could I be happy about something like that?" I ask while pinning his arms at his back, the action placing us chest to chest.

"Let go of me," Squall demands without attempting a struggle.

Though my anger passes at the defeated hint to his voice, I still shake my head. "No, I don't think so. I have some apologizing to do."

"What--"

I don't give Squall the chance to voice his question as I press my lips against the corner of his mouth in a gentle kiss. As expected, Squall jerks back at the contact, but there's nowhere for him to go with my hold on him. I continue to place light kisses along the soft flesh of his lips, asking for him to relax and savor the minimal amount of pleasure I'm trying to give him. Sadly, he remains stiff and unresponsive for a long, unsatisfying minute. I'm on the edge of surrender before I feel a light breath against my skin.

"I hate the taste of beer," Squall murmurs while loosening his muscles just a touch.

I smirk at the comment and place another kiss against slightly parted lips. "Sorry, I'll remember that for next time."

"Next time...?"

I chose not to reply with words, but with an attempt to deepen the real kiss I want to give him, hoping that this one doesn't end abruptly like our one from last night. Squall doesn't really resist me, but I remain careful as I hold him close, waiting for signs of renewed tenseness that would lead to my tongue getting bitten in two. It doesn't take long to realize that Squall has decided on a new tactic - to allow me what I want and maybe I'd go away. Really, this guy is too cute sometimes.

Using my hold on him, I push against his lower back, encouraging him to angle his pelvis forward to place better contact between us. He slips easily into the perfect position, and even rubs slightly against me, though I'm certain it's by accident. Afraid of him bolting at any second, I'm extremely careful as I suck at his lower lip to further sensitize the soft flesh and to draw him into a chaste kiss that lasts for several heartbeats. I then release his lips in a slow, purposeful act before I brush the tip of my tongue across reddened flesh. It's simple to feel the slight shiver of the body within my arms, but I hold back the instinct to smirk at my win over his stubbornness.

With my fingers trailing along his cooler skin, I release his wrists and take a small step back to give him proper space. My eyes directly focused on his gaze of softened gray, I say with complete sincerity, "I'm sorry, Squall."

He stares at me, the blue of his eyes sharpening as various thoughts fly through his overwhelmed and stressed mind. I wait patiently for the reaction he will chose upon, an apparently difficult task as he opens his mouth twice to tell me something, but no words emit from the slightly swollen lips. My smiling at his hesitant actions certainly doesn't seem to be helping much.

Eventually Squall bows his head forward, hiding his face from me before he says. "You aren't my boyfriend."

"That's true enough," I agree, but not at all happy with his sober tone of voice.

"Then why do you keep... Why are you still _doing_ this?"

"Because I like you," I state before really thinking about it. As Squall lifts his head enough to gaze questioningly at me, I quickly try to explain my comment. "Listen, I know this is a business arrangement, but you're an interesting guy and I'm actually kind of excited to spend more time with you. And who knows, we both live in New York and have a mutual friend. I don't see anything keeping us from being friends after we're done here."

"... Why would I want another idiot friend?"

Laughing at his overly dry tone, I wink at him and say, "What if I promise to not charge you for the privilege? Hmm?"

Squall continues to stare at me, something glimmering in his eyes behind the stony front of gray, but that light is promptly smothered at the sound of a door being slammed open. When a giggling call of Squall's name reaches us, I sigh at another ruined moment with the brunet. I don't move except to cross my arms, allowing Squall the passage to escape. He readily takes that chance, but as he squeezes past me, Squall rests a hand on my shoulder and lifts himself high enough to whisper softly into my ear.

"Your apology is accepted."

And then I'm left alone in the study, my eyes focused on the wall of photos. Looking down at the image of his smiling mother, I shake my head and ask the woman's ghost, "Your son is an unpredictable bastard. What the Hell am I supposed to do with him now?"

~ > < ~

Seated on a completely uncomfortable bar stool, I lean forward on the counter and enjoy the moment of relative silence. After an evening of Rinoa's constant whining, Raine's sugar-high yelling, and Ellone's all-around scolding, the typical bar scene with the occasional drunk is more like a monastery in comparison. I savor the moment for what it's worth, but unfortunately, I soon find out that Irvine had chosen this place to make certain that I could hear his every irritating word while we share a drink.

"I thought I asked you to take it easy on Squall."

I glance at the long-haired man and raise an eyebrow, questioning his reproachful tone. "I don't remember you saying that."

Irvine huffs while crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you that he had issues and he didn't need you aggravating him. But what do you do the moment I'm not around--"

I interrupt him with a harsh laugh. "Give me a break, Kinneas. I thought you invited me out here to thank me with a beer, not for a fucking lecture. Just tell me what's up your ass and get it out of your system."

Violet eyes flash with an interesting gleam that I haven't seen from the mellow guy before. "Stop making moves on Squall."

"And why would I want to do that?" I ask with a playful smirk.

"I know I asked you to help him loosen up, but after talking with him this morning, I realize that I made a mistake. He isn't ready to deal with someone like you. You're just making things worse, not better."

I roll my eyes, curious if Squall had made me sound like a rapist after the morning's event. "Look, it's not my fault that he has a fucking gorgeous ass, and he knew damn well that I wasn't fully conscious when I molested him. Anyway, that's old news. We made up before dinner, so stop babying him."

Irvine continues to glare at me while I sip at my Black & Tan. Eventually he sighs out a long breath before downing the last of his first beer. He then motions for the bartender and orders a shot of vodka.

"Careful, pretty boy. You should know the age old saying, 'beer before liquor, never been sicker'. And there's no way I'm cleaning up your mess."

"Shove it, Almasy."

I chuckle, amused by this rare side of the casual man. "Alright, but I thought you promised Squally-boy that you would be a good boy tonight."

"You heard that, did you?" he murmurs in reply.

I nod at the question, somewhat surprised by his sober tone. We were leaving for the bar when Squall mentioned something about 'no more than three'. Irvine had agreed without missing a heartbeat and swore his word to the serious man.

The bartender delivers the single shot, one that Irvine downs quickly before ordering another. Watching him do so, I suddenly realize that I haven't seen this guy drink that much. It's rather ironic since we first met at a club in New York, but it was his date who had smelled like she had fallen into a vat of tequila. It was by accident that I had bumped into the blond bimbo, which then resulted in me being covered in puke from chest to toe. It's ridiculous how that situation had led to Irvine and me becoming decent friends, but that was only after he had helped to clean the vomit from my clothes.

Irvine finishes off his second shot just like he had the first, but this time he smiles with a giddy curl to his lips. The bartender hovers for a moment in anticipation of the next shot, but Irvine asks for a glass of water instead.

"Okay, I'm done," Irvine says while pushing his shot glass aside. "I had my three, so don't let me have anything else tonight."

"Wait a minute, that's what Squall meant by three? What is he, your mother?"

After thanking the bartender for his water, Irvine replies, "He keeps me from being an alcoholic like my parents were."

I stare dumbly at the man and watch him drink his water. Once the shock has passed, I slump to the bar top and cover my face with a bent arm. "God damn it, is everything related to that guy a fucking drama-fest?"

Irvine chuckles quietly, but it isn't a very humorous sound. "I guess so. His mother's cancer, my worthless family, his fucking ex..."

"Don't forget Rinoa," I mutter, but when I don't receive a sign of agreement, I look at Irvine and meet his confused gaze. "You know, Rinoa and her fantasy-based romance with our moody princeling?"

"_Rinoa_? She hates Squall."

"Phft, she doesn't hate Squall. She hates him for being gay. It's ruining her plans for a 'happily ever after' type ending. You saw her yesterday - she first hugged Squall within an inch of his life, but then got all pissy when he introduced me as his boytoy. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she decides to stab me in my sleep for getting between her and Squall."

The long-haired man blinks, his eyes distant as he considers my observations. Given his years of knowing Squall and his family, it's no surprise that it only takes him a few spare moments before his mind opens up to the obvious. Idiot, he should have known about this _years _ago.

With violet eyes focused on me, Irvine's first statement about his revelation is simply, "Holy shit..."

"That's pathetic, Kinneas. How long have you known Squall and you need _me_ to tell you that his step-sister is dying to be to be fucked by him? I'm disappointed."

He scowls, looking ready to argue, but then covers his face a spread hand. "I deserve that, but I still don't know if I can believe it. It's just... _wrong._"

"Then why are you considering it if you don't believe me?"

"... Well, I think... once... I caught her kissing Squall."

"You've got to be shitting me! Squall let the bitch kiss him?" I ask with a laugh of true surprise.

Irvine scoffs while lowering his hand. "It's not like that. We were maybe fifteen. I had spent the night and when I woke up, she... was bent over him. Squall was asleep. I don't think he ever knew she did it."

"And why didn't you tell him?"

"I thought it was a weird dream or something. You have to understand - by that time, Rinoa was always harping on him for being 'abnormal' and ruining the family. I couldn't believe that she would do something... _anything_ like that."

I snicker loudly, very amused by the shear horror sounding in the man's voice.

"Shut up, bastard. How did you find out, anyway? You were just introduced to the family."

"Nothing special, really. Her mood swings around Squall were like neon warning signs, but her mini-me-Squall fiancé sealed the deal."

Pressing a hand against his forehead, Irvine groans quietly. "Nida. I never thought of it, but he does look a bit like Squall, and he certainly acts quiet enough to be like Squall. But at least Squall has something of a personality. But fuck, just last night I asked Jonathon if he knew what Rinoa saw in the guy. His best guess was that Nida has a long tongue."

I laugh at the idea, and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if it were true. "I can't believe that the Navy man has some humor in him after all."

"Jonathon? He used to be a lot worse, but Elle has mellowed him out over the years," Irvine mentions with a slight smile. "I don't think anyone can stay the same after spending time with that family."

"Hmm, that's probably true enough," I murmur before sipping my drink, trying my hardest to _not_ think about the afternoon spent watching 'Cinderella'. I hope to God that Squall didn't let loose any dangerous information to our mutual friend here.

Drinking the last of his water, Irvine slams the glass onto the countertop and sighs loudly as if he had just finished off a shot. "Enough of this crap before you give me even more nightmares about Rinoa and Squall. I think it's time for us to find some ladies."

Humor gone to confusion, I ask warily, "Excuse me - did you say 'us'?"

"Yeah, 'us'. You know, you and me and maybe a pair of fiery twins," Irvine says with a lazy smirk. "Well, they probably aren't twins, but they are certainly both redheads. Check out nine o'clock."

I don't bother to look at the pair of hotties that I had already spotted nearly fifteen minutes ago. "They're fake."

"What? Damn, really?" he states with vague disappointment, but the smug smile returns in due time. "Well, it's not like we have to breastfeed to enjoy the sex, right?"

Matching his smile, I shake my head. "Have your fun, Kinneas. I have a 'boyfriend' waiting for me at home, remember?"

"Actually, it was your 'boyfriend' who asked me to find you some ass. He doesn't want another wakeup call like this morning."

"Hn, I should've guessed he was behind this. Well, forget it, Kinneas. I'm too focused on _his_ ass to care about some ten-cent slut."

Irvine blinks at me once before asking, "Are you being serious?"

I simply smile in reply, allowing the auburn-haired man to assume whatever he likes. It'd probably be a lot more creative than anything I could come up with.

Unfortunately, Irvine disappoints me when he laughs and slaps my back. "Good one, Almasy. I actually thought you were interested in Squall for a minute there. Maybe you are worth the cash people waste on your skills." With a smooth slip from his barstool, Irvine stretches his sleek body in an inviting fashion for the women down the room. By the soft tittering from the whores, he has succeeded in attracting their attention. Before approaching them, he winks at me and says, "Trust me, we'll have a great time tonight."

Left alone for the meantime, I cringe when I realize that I'm still able to hear Irvine as he woos his latest prey from across the bar, his sugarcoated words and soft touches unmatched in the field of flirting. It doesn't take long before he mentions his 'lonesome friend', causing a pair of hungry and alcohol hazed eyes to look my way. At that point, I decide that it's insulting for Irvine to think that a night with a fake-breasted slut could make me ignore my contract to Squall. Looking away from the obnoxious flirting of my lanky friend, I wave down the bartender. Not really paying attention to him before, I'm thankful that the guy doesn't look too bad.

I fish out a ten from my back pocket and hold it out to the sandy-haired man. "Be horrified for me."

The twenty-something kid shows his confusion at the quiet order, but goes for the ten anyway.

I release my hold on the bill, purposefully freeing my hand to brush my fingers up his arm and onward to his stubble roughened cheek. In a deep, but loud voice, I tell him, "You know, you're a real cutie."

Brown eyes widen in terror as the man jerks away from me and nearly knocks down several bottles from the counter behind him. With a squeaky declaration, he informs me, "This isn't _that_ kind of bar, sir," and he runs off in the other direction, my ten amusedly still clutched in his hand.

It's hard to not smile at the rapidly retreating form, but I force a hurt expression, a mask that succeeds by the disappointed whines of the girls Irvine was trying pick up for the two of us. Satisfied at the success of my escape plan, I stand up from the barstool and drop a couple of twenties on the counter, covering both the cost of drinks and the well-earned tip for our abused bartender. But when moving for the exit, I unfortunately have to pass Irvine and his non-twins, and it's no surprise when he stops me.

"You aren't that gay," he growls quietly, obviously upset that I was ruining the plan to get me laid tonight and less horny for the morning.

With an impish smile, I brush the back of my fingers across his cheek and speak to him in my best queer voice. "Honey pie, I'm sharing a bed with a man who looks absolutely stunning in silk. Of _course_ I'm gay."

Although the man should be accustomed with my taunting by now, Irvine still jerks away as if burned. "Don't _do_ that, you fag bastard."

Laughing, I continue to the door and wave to Irvine on my way out. "Enjoy your ladies, Irvy. I'm going back home to enjoy mine."

{Continued}


	3. Chapter 3

[Squall]

Supporting the weight of a heavy idiot at my backside and feeling his firm cock at my ass, I have to wonder why the Hell Seifer is here. The only thing I can figure is that I must have somehow pissed off Irvine in the recent past. Why else would he fail me and allow Seifer to come back last night with an unexercised dick? Although, truth be told, I can't be certain if the escort would have been satisfied by an easy fuck. For all I know, it would have just made this asshole even hornier and more excited for a challenge.

That settles it - neutering is the only option left to me if I'm going to survive the rest of this week.

As if hearing my thoughts, Seifer whines behind me and presses a cold nose against the back of my neck. He really is pathetic like this, a man who does sex for a living, and yet he cuddles more than he should for someone in his line of 'work'. But what is worse is the feel of heated skin against my back and the strong arms wrapped around my body, his overwhelming presence creating a sensation of comfort that isn't really mine. It's too easy to get lost in this man's warmth and wonder what else he could offer me.

But of course, once that wandering hand of his begins to move into forbidden realms, I remember the reality that Seifer is a master at pretending to be something he's not.

Since it worked so well yesterday, I free an arm from his clinging hold and I happily drive my elbow back into his exposed stomach. Seifer yells out in surprise at the attack and promptly releases me while rolling away from what had caused him pain. I immediately take advantage of my restored freedom and hurry out of bed to adjust my boxers back into their proper placement.

"God dammit, princess," Seifer drawls out in sleepy anger. "Why'd you do that?"

"You're lucky I didn't aim lower," I mutter while moving to the closet.

"Huh?" is his intelligent reply until he glances down at his aroused state. "A-ah, shit, sorry about that. It's just that you really were a sex kitten last night. Ears, tail, and all."

"And that's why I gave you permission to go fuck someone else."

Seifer scoffs. "I'm _your_ boyfriend, remember? I don't cheat."

I direct a withering glare to the blond, a silent reminder that he is a _purchased_ boyfriend and I really don't give a shit if he goes and fucks somebody else. If that's what it takes for me to wake up normally for once, then so be it.

"It wouldn't help, princess," Seifer argues with a broad grin, completely unaffected by my glare. "I'm dreaming of _you_, which means that there's only one cure for this aching body."

It's hard to resist a roll of the eyes, but it's obvious that he gets great pleasure out of irritating me and the last thing I want to do is encourage him. Instead, I step into the closet to quickly exchange my sleep wear for a tank top and running shorts, all the while ignoring the muffled complaints from Seifer that he couldn't 'appreciate' me with the door closed.

Once fully dressed, I step out from the closet to find that Seifer had kicked aside the sheets and was lightly stroking his erection beneath silky boxers.

"Not in the bed," I remind him coldly.

The blissful expression wiped from his face, Seifer frowns pitifully. "A-aw, come on. Do you know how embarrassing it is to hop across the hallway while in full salute? What if your father was to see me? Or worse, one of your sister's friends? I could become a rape victim!"

I glare at him for the dramatics. "Even if that did happen, maybe it would solve this morning wood problem of yours."

"How cold, princess. I wouldn't leave you hanging like this," he says with a lustful shine to his eyes.

"I don't need nor want your help, Almasy, so I'll say it again - not in the bed."

His eyes darkening in disappointment, Seifer offers pleadingly, "What if I promise to wash the sheets?"

I don't dignify the question with an answer and move for the doorway.

"I wash my own sheets all of the time. I swear that you won't be able to find a stain."

My hand on the doorknob, I don't look back at the blond when I reply, "Then go back to New York and jerk off in your own bed."

Before I manage a full step into the hallway, Seifer calls out in a serious tone. "Hey, wait a second, would you? I've got a question."

Despite my better instincts, I pause at the plea, but offer no guarantee of an answer.

"I just wanted to know if we have any plans for the day."

Frowning, I glance back over my shoulder. "Why?"

"Just curious. Personally, I wouldn't mind some alone time with you."

"... ..."

"You see, here's the deal - my price includes the fee of a nice dinner where I handle the arrangements. Since we're busy with that family and wedding crap for the rest of this trip, I thought I'd take you out to lunch today."

"That's not necessary."

"I'm afraid it is," Seifer argues with a demanding grin. "I promised Kinneas to treat you like royalty."

I scowl at the blond, not pleased with the implied 'princess' comment.

With a sigh of disappointment, the humor vanishes from his expression. "It's just lunch. Would it be so horrible to spend that time with me?"

The pathetic tone of voice undoes me, and really, it's not like I can avoid Seifer by refusing this request for lunch. If anything, it would just make him that much more determined, something that can't lead to any good given the fact that we share the same bedroom. The additional fact that Seifer gets on my nerves when hardly trying makes me concerned about what mental distress he could cause when he is truly motivated.

My reluctant decision made, I turn my back to the blond before telling him, "Do whatever you want." And when I can practically hear the widening of his grin behind me, I quickly add, "But not in the bed."

Before Seifer gets out more than a grumbled, “prude bitch,” I step out into the hallway and close the door behind me. Leaning back against that door, I take a few deep breaths and manage to find some calm after seeing the fit blond sprawled out on the bed with his large hand settled on his cock. I wouldn't be gay if I couldn't appreciate a sight like that. But it's all too easy for me to remember reality, that he's a whore who has perfected his acts of seduction. My attraction to his body and words can't result in anything satisfying. I'd be a fool to believe otherwise, and I refuse to be a fool over a man like Seifer.

~ > < ~

It's with some denial that I find myself following Seifer to the entrance of a clearly overpriced restaurant located next to the ocean. Though not a 'tie required' type of place, Seifer still chose to look his part by wearing a dark green dress shirt and a thin black tie that would give any other man the typical 'I work in a cubicle' appearance. How the blond looks like he's ready to loosen his tie for a good fuck at any moment is beyond me.

A younger man smiling too fondly greets us at the door, and after ushering us inside, he hurries to the podium once learning that Seifer had made reservations. Given the early hour for lunch and the small crowd, I'm somewhat surprised when we are led to a back corner of the restaurant instead of something with an ocean view.

"As you requested," the host states while directing us to a table for two. "Something secluded and away from windows."

"Perfect, thank you," Seifer says, purposefully avoiding my gaze as he sits and accepts a leather-bound menu.

With apparently no choice in the matter, I take my seat across from the large blond and mutter a thanks to the host for my menu

Once alone, Seifer continues to glance over the lunch selections when he mentions, "You look confused, princess."

"Not particularly. I just didn't realize you had something against windows."

"Only when it gives you something to look at aside from me."

"... Excuse me?"

Seifer smirks without looking my way. "I noticed it on the drive from the airport - when the ocean is in plain view, you don't hear or notice a damned thing around you. But unfortunately, all of the good restaurants that are open for lunch also happen to have a view of the ocean, and so I had to settle for a table in the back corner and away from any interfering windows."

I stare at the arrogant blond for a time, somewhat impressed that Seifer had bothered to notice that habit of mine during the length of the half-hour drive. He doesn't look up during my examination, and with no particular desire to talk, I redirect my attention to the short menu of mostly seafood items and not a single listed price. Figuring that whatever meal I order will be too expensive for the taste, I consider getting the steak and shrimp.

My decision made, I set down the menu to discover that Seifer had turned his focus to me. His green-eyed gaze is sharper than usual, and while I would typically be offended, I was instead curious about what could make this man appear thoughtful for probably the first time in his life. Allowing him his thoughts, I look to the side and feel some regret that the windows are indeed blocked from my view.

"Why are you alone?"

I simply shrug, already tired of hearing the question from Seifer. It's not his business, and really, what does it matter? It's not like me being single affects the rest of the world.

"Is it because you haven't found the right person? Or are you purposely avoiding the chance that the right guy is sitting directly in front of you?"

A dark eyebrow raised, I glance at the blond without moving my head.

Seifer grins at my disbelieving gaze, but he doesn't get the chance to vocalize his amusement as our waitress makes her cheery appearance. I turn down the offer of wine, but Seifer doesn't seem to mind that it's only a little after eleven in the morning and asks for a gin and tonic. With a server's smile and a very unsubtle wink in Seifer's direction, our waitress promises to be right back before hurrying off in the direction of the bar.

"Does your hermit status have anything to do with your ex?"

Though surprised by the question, I manage to keep my expression neutral. "And what makes you ask that?"

His smile smug, Seifer leans back in his chair. "During my talk with Kinneas last night, he let it slip that your ex had fucked up your life and I don't mean in the literal sense."

I scoff and redirect my attention to the bar. "Irvine didn't tell you anything."

"I'm afraid that he did. There was alcohol involved, after all."

"That doesn't matter. He wouldn't have had more than his limit and he knows not to talk about my business."

There's a moment of quiet before Seifer laughs quietly. "Damn, I never would've guessed that you trusted him that far. I think I might be a little jealous."

Not concerned about interrupting our conversation, the waitress returns with Seifer's drink and some water for the both of us. The glasses placed onto the tabletop, she straightens with a faked sigh of exertion and asks if we had decided on our lunch orders. Seifer happily takes the lead as he orders for himself and moves directly into my order, the bastard somehow knowing the meal that had I decided upon. By the sheen to his eyes, I know it wasn't a simple matter of guessing. This man gets more dangerous with every minute that I know him.

Our menus taken away, I glare at the blond. "Stop treating me like a woman you want to fuck."

Seifer grins at my demand as if to say that I may not be a woman, but he certainly wouldn't mind the fucking part. "So, we were talking about your ex."

I roll my eyes at the fishing statement and return my gaze to bar area.

"Hey, you may not believe me when I say this, but I'm a pretty good listener. And trust me, I've probably heard it all when it comes to bad relationships. Many of my clients are people who want to forget the pain associated with love."

"... ..."

"You do realize that it's okay to move on with your life, don't you?"

I close my eyes, irritated by the question and the fact that he won't leave me alone about this matter. "And do _you_ realize that I've already had a father and several friends tell me that exact same thing?"

"I'd be disappointed if they hadn't, but sometimes it helps to hear these things from an outsider."

"The last thing I need is help from you."

It's with some surprise that I realize Seifer isn't going to argue my comment, and it's due to his continued rare silence that I'm tricked into glancing at him. He smiles the moment our eyes meet, declaring that minor victory of regaining my attention without really trying. But even with that firm hold of my eyes, Seifer doesn't say a damned word, apparently satisfied with this new game of playing mute. Whatever. That's fine by me. It'll be nice to get a moment of peace around his moron.

But when our salads come and go without anything said, I inwardly grumble at my inevitable loss in this matter. Asshole. How is it possible that this man can be loud and irritating when his mouth isn't even moving? And though his stray foot may have a small part to play in my overall frustration, I know that I can better handle his pointless words than his cat-like eyes focused solely on me.

"I'm over him."

An eyebrow arched in disbelief, Seifer props his chin onto folded hands in a classic 'psychiatrist listening to a nut' pose.

"He was an ass and I stopped loving him the moment I dumped him."

"It's never that easy," the escort argues.

"He made it easy."

Lowering his arms to the table, Seifer loses his air of amusement as he frowns with concern. "What did he do to you?"

"Only four other people, including my ex-boyfriend, know that particular answer. Why should I tell you?"

The blond shrugs. "Why not?"

Irritated, I look away from piercing green eyes and glare at my goblet half-filled with ice water. Why can't this bastard understand the obvious, that I don't _want_ to share my problems with every idiot in the world. It's simple enough for everyone else to figure out that I need my peace, but Seifer still has to ask why. Fingering the stem of my water glass, I briefly consider how difficult it would be to strangle the large blond.

"I just want to help you," Seifer insists in a low tone.

It should be easy to tell him that I don't want his help, nor do I need it, but the words won't form. Instead, I focus solely on the glass stem and the wetting of condensation over my skin.

"Squall..."

Thankfully he's interrupted by the approach of our waitress and the arrival of our main course. With a broad smile, she meets Seifer's gaze while setting down his plate first, her attention far away from my plate and the steak knife placed precariously on the edge. And when her hand tilts the plate just a touch too steeply, the knife takes little time in sliding off. I don't pull back my hand fast enough, the fat blade just catching the skin of my pointer finger. Startled and unable to move, I stare down at the shallow cut that begins to ooze bright blood.

"_Shit,_ are you okay?" Seifer asks while reaching forward to grab my hand, almost knocking aside my water glass in the process.

Everything seems to slow down as I watch my hand in his, the warmth of his skin a strong contrast to the chill of the water glass. Seifer scowls at the sight of blood, but he doesn't waste time examining the obvious cut as he tenderly lifts my hand and the tip of his tongue peaks into view mere inches from my finger.

"**Don't!**" The demand explodes from me as I jerk back my hand and cradle it safely to my chest. Seifer stares at me with wide eyes for the strong reaction, but I don't give him the chance to question me. "It’s… That's disgusting," I state lamely, and then stand with a muttered pardon as I head quickly for the restroom.

Rinsing the finger under cold water, I silently curse the obvious shaking to my hand. It's something Seifer would notice in a heartbeat and I really don't need to give the bastard another excuse to harass me. But at the sound of a door opening behind me, I know that I'm screwed.

"I got a Band-Aid for you," Seifer says in a strangely unreadable voice.

I don't move while watching the water flow over my finger.

He sighs loudly before pulling some paper towels free from the dispenser. Without asking for permission, Seifer steps close behind me and turns off the water before gently drying my hand, the move oddly comforting despite his arms wrapped around me to do the task. A trickle of blood still flows when he stops patting with the coarse material, but he quickly covers the cut with a generic Band-Aid.

I think about thanking him for the silent treatment, but then his hands are on my shoulders and I'm forced to turn around. Seifer hugs me close at that moment, his cheek pressed against my hair and his arms strong around my back.

After a stunned second, I try to pull away. "Let me go."

Seifer shushes quietly. "You're shaking. I doubt you want anyone else seeing you like this."

I stop my struggles at the serious comment, hating that the man was right. Reluctantly, I rest my head against his shoulder and breathe in the scent of mild aftershave. It's difficult to let myself relax while in the arms of the person who got me into this state in the first place, but as Seifer waits patiently without a movement or sound, I slowly begin to accept the support he's offering. And when his hold vaguely tightens, I know that Seifer easily senses my surrender. I won't hear the end of this one.

When I exhale away the last of my shaking, I push back from the blond. Seifer freely loosens his hold, but only to the point of resting his hands at my waist. Despite that lingering contact, I manage to meet his gaze without embarrassment and nod my thanks.

Pale lips curling into a half-smile, Seifer says, "Hey, no problem, princess. It's my fault for being 'disgusting', after all."

I choose not to argue even though I hate lies in general. Sometimes, the truth can be far worse than a misleading lie. "I can't stay here."

"I figured as much. Our frantic waitress is currently placing our complementary meals into takeaway boxes, so we should be able to leave once you're steady again."

"I'm fine."

Grinning, Seifer places a finger at my chin and lifts gently. "You're more than fine, lovely, but I was referring to your mental state."

I'm ready to bite out a response before insistent lips are suddenly against mine. Really, I should've known better with his closeness, but I'm beginning to learn that Seifer is an expert at identifying and exploiting even the briefest moments of weakness.

Leaning back, Seifer flashes a satisfied smirk. "Shall we reschedule for tomorrow?"

"... ...?"

"Well, not only was our meal ruined, but I also didn't fulfill the contract by treating you to dinner. It doesn't count when the meal is free because you're stabbed by the waitress."

"I don't care."

"But I _do_. Call it a matter of pride."

I glare at him, not concerned in the least about his inflated sense of pride. "Right now, I just want to go home."

Seifer loses the determined glint to his eyes at my words, finally recognizing that I wasn't in any mood to play. "Alright, I hear ya. Let me get our food and we'll head straight home."

I watch his retreating back for a moment, distracted by the disappointed tone to his typically confident voice. Idiot, I bet he had something else planned for this afternoon. And though I'm curious about his apparent surprise, it's better not to know since otherwise I might accidentally let myself be seduced.

~ > < ~

Turning off the ignition to my father's car, I glance over at the silent blond and debate asking him if he was okay. It's a stupid thought, really, since I'm the one who could've gotten his finger sliced off today, but a large sulking man isn't something easily ignored, especially within the confines of a sedan.

"Do you hate me?"

I blink at the abrupt and childish question. "What...?"

Seifer turns in his seat and pins me with serious green eyes. "Are you really disgusted by me?"

Once recognizing the point of his question, I sigh and open my door without a reply. When I avoid his grasping hand, Seifer hurries to exit his side of the car and blocks my path to the garage entrance to the house. It doesn't take much to realize that he isn't going to let me pass without some kind of answer to his idiotic question. Even so, I don't feel like surrendering to such juvenile games.

"Just tell me the truth, Squall. Since the beginning, have you been revolted by the idea of spending your time with a whore?"

I close my eyes with a sigh. "That isn't true."

"Then why are you so fucking cold to me? And that whole thing at the restaurant--"

"I have a problem with blood," I state plainly, already tired of this line of discussion.

Seifer stares blankly at the reply, apparently bewildered by my perfectly logical answer that had nothing to do with him.

"If you're done, can we go inside now?"

The large blond steps back to allow me enough passage to slip by him, and I'm dense enough to fall for that trick. A muscular arm wraps around my waist and pulls me close in one smooth motion. His lips brushing against the sensitive tip of my ear, Seifer asks, "What will it take to break through your ice?"

There's no safe answer to give as any word of discouragement would only make him more determined. And so I say nothing when I place a hand at his shoulder and push him away. Seifer yields too easily to my touch, but I welcome the space he allows to form. I glance into searching jade before I turn my back to the blond and head for the entrance to the house.

The intensity of Seifer's gaze doesn't dissipate when I step inside and cross the kitchen area with the intent to head directly upstairs. I know that I can't escape Seifer that easily, but I also can't help this returned instinct of mine to run to my bedroom and hide from the world. But apparently I'm not allowed to escape this world as I step into the living room and set eyes on two unexpected people.

"Dad? Irvine?"

The older man sits up at my call, his dark green eyes focusing on me with a sorrowful gleam that I recognize all too well. At the other end of the couch, Irvine stands up and waves a small 'hello'.

Though I hate stating the obvious, I'm forced to say _something_ when no one else decides to speak first. "Shouldn't you be at work, Dad?"

Laguna rubs a hand over his thigh, a clear display of anxiousness from the man. "I could say that I finished sharpening all of the pencils in my office, but..." His weak smile disappearing after his failed attempt of a joke, my father offers, "Squall, why don't you sit down?"

I stare at the hand that pats the cushion and, hesitantly, I shake my head. "I prefer to stay standing."

"So you say every time," Laguna says with a bitter smile. He pushes up from the couch and walks across the room to stand close to me, his gaze lowering as he frowns. "When did you hurt yourself?"

"At lunch. Now stop stalling and tell me why you and Irvine are here."

My father nods, lifting his eyes to meet my cooler gaze. "Irvine called me at my office. He read something in the newspaper today and he... we both know that this isn't something we should keep from you."

Despite a deep sickness building in my stomach, I stand calmly as Laguna reaches for his back pocket and retrieves a folded scrap of newspaper. His reluctance is obvious when I'm forced to jerk the printed material from his hand, but I wouldn't expect anything else of my kindhearted father. It doesn't take long to understand what I'm reading, but my mind refuses to accept the meaning behind the two short paragraphs. It doesn't help that I'm distracted by the fact that 'Piet Veerman' and 'valiant' do not belong in the same sentence.

"Squall... Son, if you want to talk..."

Lost in the printed words, I instinctively recoil from the touch of my father's hand at my shoulder. It suddenly becomes too much to gaze into his eyes filled with worry and hurt, so with a whispered excuse, I step around him and head for the stairs. Once on the second floor and at my bedroom, I quickly try to close the door, but a large hand slams against the wood and knocks me back a pace, giving Seifer the perfect opportunity to slip inside my room. Verdant eyes are oddly hard and angry as he glares at me, and with the door closed and locked behind him, Seifer makes certain of our privacy.

"What the Hell was that about? Do you _like_ upsetting your father?"

"Get out, Seifer."

"No, I don't think so. I can see from here that you're shaking once again, and I don't like that one bit. I want to know what's in that article."

I turn and wrap my arms across my chest, not pleased to learn that I was physically reacting to the news. But as I stare at the corner of the room and the clothes strewn over Seifer's luggage, I consider this chance to be rid of the escort and his games of seduction. When he steps closer with intimidation, I take a breath of resolution and hold out the scrap of newspaper. Seifer hesitates, but still accepts the silent offer of an answer.

It doesn't take long for him to read the short obituary. "Shit, was this 'Piet' a friend of yours?"

I scoff, still not looking in Seifer's direction. "Piet was my boyfriend. And his 'valiant fight against a terminal disease' was him living with AIDS."

Seifer curses in surprise. "How long...?"

"How long did he have AIDS? I don't know, but he was diagnosed with HIV six years ago. Or are you asking how long it's been since we were together?" Glancing at the blond, I tell him, "As of last month, it was six years ago."

Unable to respond to my words, Seifer simply stares at me with an unbelieving gaze. I imagine I looked much the same when Piet showed up completely drunk for a date and told me about the test results he had gotten weeks earlier. The bastard said he had been in denial about it and that he was sorry, but an apology wasn't nearly enough, not when there had been several sessions of sex within that time period that didn't include condoms by his request. God, I was so stupid back then.

"You weren't infected," Seifer says confidently, not hiding his relief.

I glare at him for the crude assumption. "He fucked me when he _knew_ he had HIV and only God knows how long he had it before then."

"But I know people who have HIV and I've seen those drug cocktails they have to take. In the past three days, I haven't seen you pop a single pill, and trust me, I would've noticed."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Well, since you don't seem like the type to submit to a death sentence without a fight, I think it means a whole lot."

"... ..."

"Squall... you've been tested, haven't you?"

My fingernails bite into the flesh of my arms as I anticipate the flow of this conversation. "Of course I have, but you don't understand."

"What's there to understand? These days, if you get tested after six months and you're still negative, it's practically guaranteed that you don't have HIV."

"It's not perfect!" I argue as I face the arrogant man. "Nobody can claim that those tests are perfect."

Though startled, Seifer continues to disagree, "There are plenty of doctors--"

"Don't say anything else," I demand, realizing too late that I had placed my hands childishly to my ears. In an attempt to cover-up that reaction of mine, I rake my fingers back through my messed hair. "I've heard it all, Seifer, but nobody can understand..."

"Understand what?"

I shake my head, unable to put words to my torment. The plain truth is that I had let Piet fuck me without any protection. I was in 'love', I trusted him, and I blindly accepted his diseased semen into my body on several occasions. To this day I can feel that sickness within me and I've accepted the reality that it will never leave. I'm being punished for my idiocy.

Seifer moves forward, gaining my attention as I glare at the large blond. He stops after the single step, but it's not his closer presence that bothers me.

"You're _smiling?_ This is _funny_ to you?"

His lopsided grin widening, Seifer says, "It's not funny in the least."

"Then stop smiling," I demand, my hands balling into tight fists as I resist the desire to punch the taller man.

Not heeding my implied threat, the escort shakes his head. "I can't do that, princess. I'm still savoring the fact that you didn't lie to me."

"... ...?"

"Earlier in the garage, you said you weren't disgusted by me," he states in a purring tone of pleasure.

My body seems to react on its own as I don't become consciously aware of my thrown punch until my fist is safely palmed within the large hand of the blond. Though at first surprised, I'm quickly disappointed that Seifer had defended himself effortlessly. I didn't even manage to wipe the grin from his face.

"Now, now, that's not how a grown man should show his affection."

"You aren't my boyfriend!" I remind him forcibly. "You're a hired cock with a face and _that's **it**_, so stop these games of yours!"

Though his smile softens, it doesn't disappear completely as Seifer opens his mouth to spout more of his nonsense. But thankfully he's interrupted by the sound of knocking and the rattle of the locked door.

"Squall, are you alright?"

Welcoming the sound of my father's voice, I jerk my hand free from Seifer's hold. "Just a moment, Dad." I glance to the blond, and with renewed calm, I say, "I'm going to tell him everything, so you don't have to pretend anymore."

"Are you certain that's best?" he asks with obvious disappointment, sounding much like a child who was told playtime was over.

"I won't demand for a refund if that's what has you worried."

He scoffs and mentions, "I don't offer refunds, anyway. It's in the contract."

I walk past the muttering man and unlock the door to allow my father inside. Laguna smiles gently at the invitation, and though his arm twitches in the need to reach out for me, the long-haired man shows rare restraint in keeping his hands to himself. After a brief look-over to assure himself that I was fine, Laguna glances to the blond escort and becomes unusually serious in his posture and words.

"If you don't mind, Seifer, I'd like to speak with my son alone."

The large man shrugs with indifference, his green eyes moving to me when he says, "I'll be downstairs with Kinneas." The implied meaning of 'we're not done yet' is obvious in his tone.

When Seifer closes the door behind him, I don't waste time in announcing to my father, "He isn't really my boyfriend."

"Hn? Oh, I know that."

Somewhat startled, I stare at my father for a long moment before I realize how he could've known. "You were listening outside."

"Well, I can't deny that, but I knew about your 'relationship' since the beginning."

Officially stunned, I'm speechless while I focus on the man whom I've always considered wholly oblivious and naive about the world around him.

With a soft smile and a hand at my shoulder, Laguna says, "I'm sorry, son, but you're like your old man - you can't lie to save your life. When you first introduced Seifer, I recognized how you couldn't stop yourself from saying that he was an escort. You wanted us to catch on from the start, and though you almost had your way, Seifer has a quick mind. I imagine that you didn't count on that."

"No, I wasn't thinking..." I press a hand to my forehead, not really certain what I _had _been thinking to reveal Seifer as an escort instead of lying, but that isn't the point here. "You couldn't have known, Dad. Otherwise, you would've..."

With a knowing smile, he says, "Otherwise I would've, what, stopped you? Truthfully, I wasn't certain how to handle the idea of you bringing home a sham boyfriend, but I eventually realized that it was my own fault for pressuring you lately. I hope you can forgive me, but with Rinoa's wedding on the horizon, I couldn't help thinking about you living alone and so far away from home. When I said that I wanted you to find a boyfriend, I didn't imagine that you'd hire someone for the sake of relieving my worries."

Though I think to argue and reveal the entire plan that began with Irvine, a different and far more important detail comes to mind. "You had us_ share _a bed!"

Laguna grins without a hint of embarrassment when he says, "Well, I assumed that Seifer wasn't hired to merely_ play _your lover, and I couldn't bring myself to ruin your plans like that. Actually, I was a bit relieved to see that you're, uh, active again."

Dumbfounded, I stare at the man's pleased expression and wonder why I have never before noticed this... _conniving_ side of my father.

His smile fades as the older man lifts his hand to my hair and strokes the longish strands. "How are you handling the news?"

Briefly confused by the change in topics, I reach for his hand with the initial thought to brush aside his touch, but then my eyes focus on the scrap of newspaper that Seifer had left on the dresser during his exit. Intertwining my fingers with my father's, I squeeze lightly and shake my head.

Instantly his other arm is tight around my backside and his forehead is pressed against mine. "God, Squall, I swore you were over him."

A bitter laugh slips from me. "I don't give a shit about Piet. I thought he died years ago."

"Then... you still think...?"

I bite my lower lip, not wanting to hear yet another lecture from my father. It's too hard to explain to him how I freely gave myself to a man Laguna never liked. Granted, I was a minor dating a college student, but I should've known that my father wasn't the type to dislike someone for a reason like that. When he told me that there was something he couldn't trust about Piet... I wished I had listened.

With a deep sigh that sounds a lot like one of my own, Laguna squeezes my hand and says tiredly, "I know that I can't make you believe that you are healthy and incredibly lucky, but even if you do become HIV positive someday, you have to understand that it's no longer the death sentence it once was. Just because this bastard died, it doesn't mean that you have to start planning your own funeral."

Hearing those words out loud, I feel like a fool. Though not an entirely conscious thought, I had read those cliché words associated with Piet and wondered if my own obituary would read the same way. ... But no, I can't imagine my father being rote in that regard. And suddenly, with that thought of Laguna grieving over my death, it comes to mind that I'm not the only one suffering from this. First my mother and now me... Damn it, when did I become this blind and selfish man?

"Squall? Is anything of this getting through?"

Moving my head to his shoulder, I press my face against soft cloth. "I'm sorry..."

"Shhh, you have nothing to apologize for. This is who you are."

I breathe a laugh that sounds too much like a sob to my ears. "It's in me, Dad. I can feel it."

"I know."

"But I won't give up. I promise you that."

Hardly a moment passes before the older man hugs me without holding back on his youthful strength. It's an awkward hold since he refuses to release my hand, but I can't deny how much I crave these overt displays of love and support from my father. ... Well, only in private, of course. It's a shame he doesn't share my same sense of discretion.

I'm eventually freed from the crushing hold and pushed back such that I become the direct focus of moist green eyes. His smile proud and relieved, Laguna doesn't say anything before ruffling my hair, something he hasn't done since my mother passed away. "No matter what happens in your life, I hope you realize that I'll always love you."

As I continue to indulge the man and his need for physical contact, I silently hope that he realizes that this is the best way I can tell him - 'I love you, too.'

~ > < ~

Standing in the shadows of the wide balcony, I gaze out at the evening sky of sparse stars and a half moon. Though I can still hear the post-rehearsal party from within the hotel, it's peaceful enough to be outside and in cooler air. Laguna had suggested that it wasn't necessary for me to come tonight, but Rinoa pleaded that the entire family had to be present at the rehearsal. After all, the wedding she started to plan at the age of five couldn't be anything less than perfect and perfection means practice. How a rehearsal dinner became yet another party celebrating her impending wedlock, only Rinoa knows.

The quiet click of a door sounds, and without turning, I know the identity of the intruder. I didn't expect Seifer to leave me alone as long as he did, but I imagine that Irvine had plenty to do with that fact. Unfortunately, a waitress had caught the playboy's eye during dinner and I wouldn't be surprised if he had snuck away to reserve a room for the night. Some days I wish that Irvine would just settle down already - it's tiresome to watch him fuck every pretty girl in sight.

After gently closing the door, Seifer saunters in my direction. "You've been avoiding me."

I don't reply, both of us knowing that I wasn't going out of my way to avoid the blond, but I didn't reject the lingering presences of my father and Irvine either.

Seifer doesn't stop until he's directly at my side and the fabric of his open jacket brushes against my arm. Proving to me that formalities mean absolutely nothing to this man, Seifer places a warm hand at my cheek to make me face him, and without a warning or request, he places his lips hard against mine. For the second time this week, I'm startled by the moist feel and sweet taste to his lips. Exploiting my stunned moment, Seifer encourages me into a better position such that I feel the solid weight of his body pressed against mine. And it's not until I forcibly break that kiss when I realize that he had also backed me into the corner with that damn move.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask in a voice no louder than whisper, confusion and frustration overwhelming the typical anger I would feel.

Seifer doesn't answer directly, his hand moving such that his fingers rake deeply into my hair. "You missed dessert."

"And what does that have to do with kissing me?"

"Nothing, really. And everything. I got the chocolate cheesecake and it reminded me of you. Made me hungry," he mutters before leaning down to lick a heavy tongue along my throat, the hand in my hair ensuring that I can't jerk away and ruin his 'meal'.

Trying to ignore the sensitizing touch, I comment, "Apparently you had too much champagne, as well."

"Nah, just the two glasses you saw," Seifer says before grazing his teeth at my Adam's apple. "I'm drunk for an entirely different reason."

I scoff at his flirtatious tone. "I'm not like that waitress Irvine seduced."

"Indeed," the blond agrees while standing straight, reminding me of his greater height. "She's a slut and you're a princess."

With a deep breath of restraint, I turn my gaze to the evening view of the harbor, but Seifer doesn't allow me that retreat. Or rather, he makes me suffer for the move as he brushes aside my hair to attack a defenseless ear. I always hated it when Piet would tongue my ear, the aftermath making me feel like he had given me a 'wet willy'. But with Seifer, the move is pure seduction as his trained tongue traces every curve with a meticulous touch that doesn't suit the large blond. So focused on his latest endeavor to annoy me, I don't notice his wandering hand until a moment too late. With unbuttoned and half-zipped pants, I manage to jerk away before any more damage could be done.

"What are you _doing_?" I demand while trying to redo my pants, but Seifer promptly interferes by trapping my hand in his.

"Just trying to get beneath the ice," he says with a broad smirk.

Incredulous, I stare into humored green eyes and wish that I could understand the mind of this unpredictable man. "Why?"

"Why not?"

I glare at him for the response a four-year-old would spout.

With a sigh and the disappearance of his smirk, Seifer asks quietly, "What do you really think of me, Squall? Am I simply a whore in your eyes?"

"... I don't understand."

"I can't make it any clearer."

Still confused, I reply, "Of course you're a whore. It's what you do."

After a startled blink and a blank stare, Seifer breathes out a few restrained chuckles before deep laughter flows freely from him. His hand tightens on mine, an annoying reaction as I'm still not entirely decent, but unzipped pants are the least of my worries. Somewhat offended by his continued laughter, I think about his question and my response, trying to understand what was so damned funny.

Eventually regaining control of himself, Seifer smiles brightly at me. "God, I'm in such trouble with you."

"... ...?"

"Confused? I guess you have every reason to be," he says with a dangerous shine to his poisonous eyes. Leaning forward to make certain he has my attention, Seifer reveals in a low voice, "I want you."

I mentally choke on the words, unable to comprehend his meaning. "If this is a game associated with your... _contract_\--"

"No. This has nothing to do with being a hired boyfriend. It only has to do with me, you, and your seduction of sweet, innocent me."

"'Seduction'? I'm sorry if I have a bad memory, but when did I _ever_ imply that I wanted you in any way, shape, or form?"

"Never, really, but I can see it in your eyes."

I glare at the flirtatious idiot, hating his smug tone and the way I can still smell his faded cologne in the night air.

Chuckling lightly, Seifer says, "You're not going to believe me, so I don't know why I'm bothering, but... Can you imagine what it's like to do my job? Every single day I deal with people who lie, and I'm supposed to smile and make their lies a reality if only for a night. I barely remember when it bothered me to play these games, but since then, I've distanced myself from the whole thing. Hell, it's not like anyone has actually wanted _me_, anyway."

With a pause in his explanation, Seifer brushes aside free strands of hair from my face. "Then Irvine came to me and asked me to play 'boyfriend' with a friend of his. My first warning sign was that he didn't say much about you and his offer of bonus money wasn't overly comforting, but I had no reason to refuse. When I met you, I figured you for an antisocial prick, but it took me longer to figure out what really bugged me about you." Seifer grins at his thoughts before voicing them, "You're too damned honest."

For some reason, his hand still wrapped around mine begins to feel incredibly hot. "Honest? Have you forgotten about why you're here? About why _I_ brought you here?"

"Of course not, but I've also seen how much this has affected you. You hate it, but it'd be worse to disappoint your father and your favorite sister."

"Maybe I just hate you," I bite out without thought, a defensive act that makes me sick.

Though taken aback, Seifer isn't discouraged as he continues to study me with sharp eyes. "No... You _wish_ you could hate me."

I glare at him for the dangerous assumption, something I don't want to hear since it may be a touch too close to the truth. I'd have to thoroughly examine my feelings to know what I actually think about Seifer, but I prefer leaving things unknown, simple, and safe. And right now, Seifer is ruining that blissful ignorance for me.

"Squall, what are you most afraid of at this moment - me or the chance to find love again?"

A harsh laugh escapes me as I shake my head. "You can't love me. It's been three days."

"And you're the one who believes in love at first sight," he reminds me. Fuck him for using my words against me.

"Not with you."

"Oh? Then is that what happened between you and Piet?"

I do my best to mask the emotions his question ignites in me, but I've already learned that this man sees more than others.

With a soft smile, Seifer leans forward to rest his forehead against mine. "That's alright. I know I'm giving you too much to handle. Just promise me that you won't refuse me without at least thinking about what I've told you."

Uncomfortable in the position that I've only shared with my father, I feel exposed with Seifer this close to me without the intention to kiss or grope me. Damn it, when did the whore vanish and be replaced by someone I can't ignore, someone who has figured me out?

Seifer squeezes my hand. "Tell me what's happening in that head of yours, princess."

"I..." Wetting my dried lips with a slip of my tongue, I say quietly, "I need time to think."

His smile childlike in his relief, Seifer straightens. "That's all I want."

I think to argue and point out that he wants a lot more from me than that, but Seifer moves too quickly for me to find my voice. Stepping back a pace, he keeps his hold on my hand and pulls on my arm.

"We better go back inside. I'll bet if we ask nicely, we can convince a waiter to find a piece of chocolate cake for you. I know it's your favorite."

Somewhat dazed by the change in topics, I accuse, "Irvine told you."

"Close, but not quite - your father did. I think he likes me."

I scoff. "I doubt it. He knows everything about you."

The escort hums softly with a tilt of his head. "How does that imply that he doesn't want you to keep me around?"

I stare at him for the suggestion. It's something that would be ridiculous for anyone else, but it sounds entirely too much like my father for comfort. And God help me, I'm stuck here another two days with Laguna and his kindhearted desire to make certain I'm not alone for the rest of my life.

"Hey," Seifer calls out to regain my attention. "Do you want dessert or not?"

I gaze at the handsome man and note the way the gel in his hair seems to be weakening for the night, releasing golden strands over his forehead. Wishing that I could deny my attraction and ignore my curiosity of what Seifer tastes like, I reply under my breath, "I don't know."

"Come on, I don't care much for sweets and I thought it was pretty damn good."

Somewhat startled that he had heard me, I thank my luck that the flirtatious man didn't catch onto my actual meaning.

"Trust me, princess. You'll like it."

With a vague smile, I nod my head in consent, the only sign Seifer needs as he begins pulling me in the direction of the door. Focused on his back, I think about Ellone's comment the other day, that Seifer didn't seem to be my type. I wholly agree with her assessment, and yet, I also feel something drawing me to this irritating man. If it were just his smile and body, I wouldn't be so worried about something that could be solved with a night of sex. No, there's something else that only Seifer can offer me and I have a horrible feeling that the price of that 'something' may be too high for me to handle.

{Continued}


	4. Chapter 4

[Seifer]

Today is going to be a great day.

That was my first thought upon waking about twenty minutes ago and I have no reason to question that certainty. Resting on my back with an arm bent behind my head, I have the perfect view of the unattainable kitten curled against my bare chest. It was a surprise, really, to find Squall still comfortable in the position that I had forced him into last night after returning from the rehearsal dinner. He had been angry at me over... well, there are plenty of things I could choose as I wasn't on my best behavior last night, but I imagine that the public licking of chocolate from his lips ranked highest on his list. In any case, I had used the excuse that he shouldn't go to sleep angry and gave him a hug of apology. Of course, I then refused to release the trapped princess, but sadly, Squall had stopped squirming the moment he realized that I was enjoying it a little bit too much.

With a smile at those thoughts, I can't help being curious as to why the brunet hadn't escaped the moment I fell asleep. A small, pitiful piece of me wants to believe that he's responding to what I told him last night, but I know the truth. I know that he can't let himself trust me, not when the last boyfriend he loved had abused his blind trust and nearly cost Squall his life. And God in Heaven, if that cock-sucking bastard wasn't already dead...

"Seifer...?"

The sleepy voice makes me grin. "Yes, princess?"

"Stop growling," he demands as he curls a little tighter against my body, his cold feet slipping between my legs.

Though I try my damnedest to hold back laughter, a deep chuckle still leaves me. That subtle shake of my body is the final disturbance necessary to wake Squall fully from light sleep. Lifting his head enough to direct pale eyes up at my face, the dark-haired beauty simply stares at me for a long moment. While my overly smug expression brings a small frown to his lips, he surprisingly doesn't react with any amount of violence. Instead, he returns to his previous position with his head resting on my chest and a quiet 'dumbass' whispered against my skin.

"Well, good morning to you, too," I say while I stroke my fingers along his side left exposed from his bunched shirt, and I debate the consequences of sliding my hand beneath his boxers. "Did you have pleasant dreams of Prince Charming rescuing you from your idiot step-mother?"

In a light growl of displeasure, Squall asks, "What time is it?"

"A little after six. You still have plenty of time to go prancing in the streets if that's what has you irritated."

Squall scoffs. "That's the least of my worries right now."

"Well, you can't be too concerned if you haven't moved yet," I state with a pleased smile, enjoying the brunet's docile behavior this morning.

"Whatever," he mumbles while shifting slightly in order to stare down the length of the bed. "You don't have an erection for once."

"Don't sound so surprised. Haven't I been telling you for days that you're the cure to everything that ails me?"

"... Is that so?"

Those words that flow in a subtle purr brings a deep chill to my spine, making me smile in delight that Squall isn't rejecting the idea that I'm sincerely interested in him. Perhaps a few of my words from last night did seep through the thick skin of this lion.

With a quiet sigh, Squall makes the decision to sit up from my side, a most disappointing action until the slim brunet turns and places a hand at the other side of my body. The unfortunately clothed beauty positioned directly above me, I grin at the sign that he isn't going to escape just yet. Dark chestnut hair hangs over pale eyes, his deep black lashes adding a touch of cold light to the blue-gray irises. Challenged by that frozen gleam, I want to grab onto his hair and kiss him until he feels like the flames of Hell are burning through his body, but I know nothing is that simple with this man.

"What do you think you can gain from whoring yourself to me?"

I blink at the question, surprise coming well before anger as I stare beyond dark strands of hair and focus on stormy eyes. I grit my teeth in readiness to snap back with my own comment, but then those entrancing eyes cross just slightly and the man's true thoughts are revealed to me. Sighing out the last of my anger, I mutter to myself, "Damn it, I've fucked this up, haven't I?"

An eyebrow lowers in confusion, but Squall doesn't move from his rather intimate position.

"I've been doing the escort thing for too many years if I can't show my interest in another person without seeming like a prostitute hungry for a meal."

With a breath of disbelief, Squall argues, "You aren't interested in me. You're playing a role--"

Grabbing onto the teasing strands of chestnut, I pull the man down to my level. "This isn't a role I'm playing, Squall. I've been the devoted boyfriend and insatiable boytoy many times before and I've never gotten confused about the matter. Admittedly this was a game with you at first, but the moment you ousted me as an escort and said that you didn't care..." I smirk and I'm certain that my hunger shows through to the brunet. "At that instant, I knew that someone very interesting had fallen into my lap."

"That's all it was?" Squall states in soft surprise. "You haven't been acting since..."

At his hesitance, I supply, "Since that day? Nah, I wouldn't go that far. I recognized your potential, but I've been fooled one too many times to believe in that 'love at first sight' crap you think exists. And so I waited patiently, I watched your every move, and I gained an addiction without realizing it."

Soft lips part, but no words are spoken as Squall gazes down at me.

"Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me, but--"

"Don't say anything else," Squall demands in a low tone that instantly steals away my voice.

He leans in closer to me, the feel of his loose shirt against my skin causing all sort of interesting sensations. For a long moment, I stare dumbly into his stony gaze, unable to imagine what the brunet has planned for me since he doesn't share my lustful and wholly lecherous instincts. Then full lips curl just slightly, almost unnoticeably, before Squall bends down in a quick motion. I can't hold back a groan at the unexpected feel of those lips caressing the side of my neck. I think to stop the apparently hungry kitten, but a flick of a tongue and the brush of teeth quickly ends that line of noble consideration.

The press of lips travels lower, following the line of my collarbone to the center of my chest. It doesn't take too much thought to guess his eventual destination, but it's a lovely surprise when Squall drifts to the right instead of left. A deft tongue flicks at the golden loop pierced through my nipple, my inevitable groan bringing a sly curl to his full lips. The moment his teeth take hold of the piercing, my hand moves instantly to the portion of his back left bare from his raised shirt, and with a testing touch, I slip my fingers beneath his boxers and follow the line of his spine.

"No tail..." I murmur with some surprise.

The golden loop still trapped between white teeth, Squall lifts his head to direct a questioning gaze in my direction.

With a pleased smile, I state, "No tail means that there's a good chance that I'm not dreaming right now."

The brunet stares at me for a moment, his blue-gray eyes critical and harsh at the explanation which probably sounds like complete nonsense to him. Is it my fault that he doesn't believe me when I say that he is a real sex kitten in my dreams?

After releasing an ever-suffering sigh at being unable to understand me, Squall returns to his apparent seduction as I leave my hand in place. I could tell him that it isn't necessary to place such focused attention on me, that he already has my body completely and utterly under his spell, but it's an intoxicating sight to watch his careful placement of each kiss and bite. I never imagined that there could be a methodical approach to sex, passion and emotion typically outweighing anything remotely logical in my experience. It makes me curious how far this beauty can be pushed before he'd lose this obsessive control over his emotions.

With leisurely grace, Squall crawls backward to give himself a more comfortable position to reach the lower areas of my body. He eventually lifts onto hands and knees, his gaze drifting to the bulge of my boxers as he smiles with satisfaction. "Now that's something I've seen before."

"Don't say that you're surprised," I reply with a hoarse purr and a slight lift of my hips.

Squall shrugs. "Not surprised, but I thought it'd take a little more effort to get you this aroused."

"Well, now you know."

Stormy eyes glance up, a glint of interest highlighting the icy orbs before he nods slightly. "Now I know."

A finger slips down the silk of my boxers, the elegant digit applying pressure at the perfect spot to draw a growled groan from my lips. But that moan of pleasure quickly turns into one of question when Squall abruptly slides off the bed and steps in the direction of the far wall.

"Fucking Hell, don't go back into the closet on me," I state with both irritation and curiosity while I lean up onto bent elbows.

Squall scoffs as he quickly grabs a set of clean clothes from the open closet. "Remember, don't jack off on my bed."

"Huh?" is my intelligent retort, confusion overwhelming me as I wonder why I would do the five-finger-tango when I had a playful kitten around. It's not until Squall places a hand on the door leading outside that I realize he isn't planning to continue what he started. And as dark hair disappears behind the door, I'm motivated by heated anger to jump off the mattress and chase after the cock-tease bastard despite the complaint of my unsatisfied dick. Across the hall, the bathroom door nearly closes before I slam a heavy hand against the painted wood. While the hit wasn't hard enough to create an opening for my large frame, I still manage to keep the door open. Squall glares at me from beyond the door, his eyes cold and unforgiving as they tell me to go the fuck away.

"Don't play games with me, Squally-boy," I warn in low tones. "Let me in."

"... ..."

"If you don't open this door in the next three seconds, I'll go find your Daddy-dearest and make a scene about you being a sadist."

Squall hesitates out of pure stubbornness, but then realizes that I'm not someone who threatens lightly and it visibly worries him that I've chosen his father as my prey. Unfortunate for Squall, I had figured out on my first day here that there are few things which Squall holds as a high priority in his life. And since his dear adoptive sister and precious niece don't arrive until later today, that leaves Laguna as my prime target for the meantime.

The moment Squall steps back from the door, I place my full weight against the painted wood and force the smaller man aside as I barge into the bathroom. Closing the door with a light touch to ensure that no one is wakened at the sound, I tower over the undaunted man. "Now, what the _fuck_ did you think you were doing back there?"

His lips twist into a slight scowl. "You deserve it."

"I deserve...?" The reality of the situation suddenly hits me, and with anger evaporating into surprise, I stare at the dark-haired beauty. "Holy shit, you were _punishing_ me just now?"

Squall averts his gaze, his stance tense and ready to strike at any wrong move.

Despite his edgy appearance, I can't prevent deep laughter at the knowledge that this seemingly prudish man had just used my attraction for him against me. "Good Lord, I keep calling you sadist in my head, but I never really thought you had those tendencies. Just how long have you wanted a pet chained to your side, hmm?"

"... ..."

I lean in close to the beauty and unintentionally back him against the bathroom wall when he retreats from my invasion of his personal space. In a mostly teasing, but somewhat serious tone, I ask him, "Are you going to tell me what I've done to deserve the wrath of my master?"

"... You know what you did last night."

"I did about twenty things last night that made you glare at me. Care to narrow it down a little bit?"

Eyes of cold fire focus in my direction. "You humiliated me."

"And that's supposed to reduce the possibilities?" I ask with a grin.

With a whispered curse at my apparent idiocy, Squall crosses his arms and moves his attention to the shower curtain adorned with neon cartoon fish.

My patience slowly wearing thin and my cock sore from neglect, I place a hand beneath his chin and stroke his pale skin. "Tell me what I've done to offend you, princess, and I swear to make things better."

"You can't," Squall bites out, but oddly doesn't knock aside my touch. "You made me look like a slut."

"A slut? When did I... oh... wait, don't tell me..." It's an impossible task to hold back my laughter once I realize that this serious man is referring to the 'zipper incident', otherwise known as me dragging Squall inside from the hotel balcony with his pants left undone from my failed attempt at molesting the dark-haired beauty. Truth be told, I didn't mean to embarrass him like that, but the moment Squall had promised to think about my place in his life, I had completely forgotten about his vaguely indecent state. And really, it was an unzipped pair of pants - it's not like people haven't seen that one before.

"It's not funny, you bastard. Everyone saw it and they thought..." Lips tight in frustration, Squall continues to glare at the brightly colored curtain.

I grin smugly at the unintentional, but very satisfying effect I had caused. "What, they thought I had my wicked way with you on the balcony? That's classic, but everyone should know that fiction is a lot more fun than the truth."

"You can laugh, but my father was the one to hear about their... _disapproval_."

My smile fades at the tightly spoken argument, realizing that we had finally gotten to the heart of the matter. It seemed strange for Squall to give a fuck about what others thought about his lifestyle, but I never considered the passive cruelty of families. I wonder what they had said to Laguna after seeing Squall reenter the hotel dining hall with his pants unzipped and me close at his side. Damn it to Hell, I'm supposed to be the whore around here, not this strait-laced beauty.

"Squall," I whisper as I guiltily lower my hand from his chin. "I'm sorry."

He closes his eyes briefly, his inner pain obvious in that moment before blue-gray orbs peer at me through dark lashes. "You're an idiot."

"I know, but I swear I never meant--"

He raises a hand to silence me. "Don't bother. If I had been anyone else, no one would have noticed. It's not your fault that they were looking for something scandalous to pin on me, real or imaginary."

With a disbelieving look at the brunet, I ask, "But if it wasn't my fault, then why did I have to be punished?"

"Because you never consider that there are consequences to your actions," Squall states plainly.

"Consequences, huh?" Sliding a leg forward, I place my bent knee against ratty boxers and the prize hidden beneath. At the brunet's quiet hiss, I chuckle and taunt, "Well, it feels like I'm not the only one who doesn't consider the backlash of hasty actions."

Glaring at me through narrowed eyes, Squall argues, "Of course I got aroused - I'm not dead, you dumbass."

"No need to tell me how alive you are, princess," I say while rocking my leg against his arousal in small circles, ensuring that my own erection is felt against his thigh. "So what should we do about our mutual problem, hmmm?"

"... Nothing."

"Sorry, but I don't believe that's an option at this point."

"Then make it an option," Squall demands hoarsely, his body responding in a most contrary fashion compared to his words.

"Now, now, didn't you watch those sex education videos back in school? You can become sterile if you don't give your equipment the release it needs."

"There's no such video," he argues pitifully, then adding under his breath, "And what do I care if I'm sterile?"

With a chuckle at his overly logical response, I brush my lips against his cheek before resting my chin on his shoulder. The increased tenseness to his body would have been impossible to miss, and if I didn't know better, I would think that Squall wanted nothing to do with me. Unfortunate for him, I know that he doesn't fear me, but lives in terror of the disease that supposedly exists within him.

"We don't have to do anything risky," I offer with caution and hopefulness. "I just want to make you feel good, even if it's only my hand doing the work."

After a long moment of thought, Squall asks, "And in return?"

I smile at the careful reply, myself wondering how long it has been since this man allowed himself to enjoy another's company. "How about we feel good at the same time?"

Again silence reigns as Squall considers his options. Meanwhile, I struggle with the desire to fully embrace this beauty and make him mine. It almost makes me laugh since I was certain it would be a woman who would entrance me like this, a good assumption since I've never fallen in love with a man before. It's not a matter of attraction since sex with men has never been an issue, but love doesn't typically spark between two horny guys looking for a fuck.

"My hands are cold."

I lean back at the dryly spoken statement that failed in the attempt to dissuade me. "You say that like I haven't noticed it," I comment in a low tone, adoring the way his eyes cross just slightly whenever he lets down his guards like this. "I don't mind, Squall. I want you and everything that is you."

His full lips part slightly as if to say something, but he then shakes his head at the unspoken thought. As stormy eyes gaze defiantly into mine, a bold hand slips beneath the waistband of my boxers and his fingers get directly to the point of the matter. Squall certainly wasn't kidding about cold fingers, but the ecstasy of moving a step further with this man makes the sting of frost something unexpectedly pleasurable. Groaning with a light buck of my hips, I place one hand deep into dark hair and brush my other hand down his clothed backside. Squall arches back against my touch, his blue-gray eyes shining with a harsh edge as if to remind me that I'm not supposed to do anything invasive.

With a grin at the chilling glare, I bend down to lay claim on inviting lips, and with the hope that the kiss is suitably distracting, I maneuver my hand past his loose shirt and lower into his plain cotton shorts. I squeeze a tight ass cheek, earning myself a bite to my venturous tongue and an unfriendly grasp around my cock. Chuckling into our kiss despite the pain, I steal another quick grope before moving my hand to where I had been given permission to molest. Somewhat surprisingly, Squall presses his hips forward into my touch and breathes a sigh in quiet relief before taking a more active role in our kiss. God, if only I knew the secret to make him always this receptive.

Not yet certain of what Squall prefers, I stick to the normal routine while testing the additional touches that cause various reactions ranging from threat-filled growls to hard pants of breath between needy kisses. Meanwhile, harmful bites are apparently reserved for the times my fingers drift too far back. But interestingly enough, Squall mimics my various techniques, something that could be attributed to either inexperience or to him thinking that I favor these type of touches. Whatever the reason, the dark-haired beauty proves to be a quick learner with a pair of hands that warm given the proper amount of friction.

"Damnit..." Squall bites out as he breaks away from a particularly hard kiss, his lower lip bearing a shine of fresh blood.

Licking at the cut the kitten had given me, I press forward into the rocking motions of his hips, somewhat impressed by the strength of the slim body. It's disappointing when Squall closes his eyes with a strained whine, but I don't argue for fear of ruining the tense moment. His hand then abruptly constricts around my dick, stealing my breath for the split second before I feel the splatter of hot fluid on my skin.

"Fucking_ damn it_," Squall curses for a second time, and then glares at me with an icy ring of blue surrounding enlarged pupils. "What _are_ you?"

"A high-priced whore," I answer succinctly, though it's confusing why he appears so frustrated at his release. Not wanting to think about it too hard, I move my focus to pouting lips and lean in despite his odd displeasure. With a lick against soft flesh to taste my blood mixed with his addictive flavor, I say encouragingly, "Don't stop now, princess. I'm almost there."

It takes a quiet moment and a thrust of my hips to further my point, but Squall renews the stroking of my cock. Amusingly, his angered expression doesn't fade, something that is reflected in the strength of his grip.

Purring at the rough touch, I decide to hold my questions until I have a slightly clearer mind. I rest my head against his shoulder as I enjoy the free service and lose myself in the heavy scent of the recently satisfied beauty. The man just wakened and faintly sweaty from our activities, Squall is probably dying for a cleansing shower, but I personally like this scent which speaks of sex and desire. But while I could stand here forever, I know that this kitten's attention won't last that long, so I lift my head high enough to swipe a taste of his earlobe before making a demand.

"Bite me."

Squall tenses at the command. "Excuse me?"

"You feel great, princess, but it's not enough for me. A touch of pain does wonders in a situation like this."

He says nothing in response as he continues to fist my cock. In that silence, I worry that he'll end this act here and now, my request taking things too far for his prudish sensibilities. It's a shame, but there's no avoiding the truth that his hand alone won't be enough when I'm fixated on taking more from this beauty.

Those thoughts are quickly forgotten when a heavy tongue laps at my shoulder, a momentary warning that the kitten had chosen his attack point just before teeth meet skin. The deep groan pulled from my throat was embarrassing in its volume and how it ended on a quiet whine that I haven't heard since my first time with a professional. But the firm bite of pain had done its job and I rest my head on his shoulder in fleeting disorientation.

"About time," Squall mutters, the breath felt at my ear causing a deep shiver down my spine and a final jerk into his hand.

"What can I say - I'm easy to excite and hard to please."

A soft noise of realization sounds from the brunet, something that prompts me to angle my head such that I can see his face without leaving my perch at his shoulder. Noting the absence of his previous irritation, I grin in disbelief.

"Don't tell me that you were upset about coming first?"

Squall doesn't react to the question, but his lack of denial says enough for me. Damn, and I thought it was too easy to get him to bite me. He must have enjoyed inflicting that small amount of pain in petty revenge.

Chuckling to myself, I straighten and meet his guarded gaze of blue-gray. "I do this for a living, Squally-boy. What did you expect?"

He blinks once before looking in his favorite direction of the shower curtain. "... I thought stuff like this cost extra."

"It does," I state while silently examining the smaller man, uncertain if I imagined that hint of jealously in the quiet tone. "But this isn't a matter of business."

His eyes shift slightly without looking in my direction. "If not business, then what is it?"

"If you have to ask, princess, then I haven't a clue how I could explain it to you."

"... ..."

With a sigh at his unwillingness to take my feelings at face value, I step back from the smaller man and proceed to remove my stained boxers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Squall demands as he visibly tries not to glance downward.

"Getting ready to take a shower. I have things to do before we leave for lunch."

"... ...?"

"We're having lunch together before the wedding. Yesterday was a disaster and I don't like having a failed date on my record. It's bad for business."

Squall exhales a long breath. "And I've already told you that it doesn't matter."

"Maybe to you, but I'm talking about my pride here, so I won't hear any argument. We're going to have a perfect lunch even if it requires me getting on my knees and helping you to experience Heaven again."

"Don't be crude."

"It's who I am, lovely. Don't change me and I won't try to change you." Moving to the shower, I twist on the water flow such that it'll be nice and hot. "Now, are you going to strip and join me, or are you just going to watch?"

With a critical eye focused on me, Squall asks, "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I only have two objectives right now - to get clean and to see you naked. Everything else is going to have to wait until we're back in New York and I've seduced you into my well-stocked apartment."

A dark eyebrow arches in the silent question of 'how is that supposed to convince me to trust you?'.

"Strip, Squally-boy. You're safe."

Blue-gray eyes drift into a vaguely cross-eyed expression before the brunet shakes his head. "Sorry, not this time."

"If not this time, princess, then you better be prepared for next time."

"... I will be."

I stare after the dark-haired beauty as he leaves, the man unexpectedly muttering that he'll get me some clean clothes. I suppose that I should feel disappointed, me standing here alone with cum on my hand and no verification of what Squall looks like fully naked, but I find myself smiling instead. And with a glance to the mirror, I realize that it's a fool's smile planted on my face. Fucking Hell, a little sex play and a few choice words and suddenly I feel like a virgin teen looking for his first lay. What in the world have I gotten myself into?

~ > < ~

"I thought that you preferred my full attention."

I grin at the quiet voice, those being the first words spoken by the dark-haired beauty since the moment he had parked the car and asked me if I was certain I had mapped the right location. When I revealed the picnic basket that I had hidden in the trunk of the car, Squall simply shook his head, and from then on, he had only replied in distracted grunts to my various questions. I wasn't bothered by that neglect, the situation entirely expected given the closeness of the ocean and the conclusion of our private lunch. As I had hoped, the beach is too rocky and the waves are too harsh for the typical tourist, so we've been blessed with nearly an hour of alone time without the scream of playing children. The only downfall has been the collection of surfers playing in the ocean while Squall watched on. Damn beach bums.

"Well?" he prods while tilting his head in my direction.

"It depends on my mood, princess. And right now, I'm perfectly content lying here while you get a moment to relax away from the family."

Blue-gray eyes study me with a suspicious gleam before Squall returns his attention to the never-ending waves. "You're staring."

My smile widens at the accusation, something I'm not about to deny. Resting on my side with my head propped on a bent arm, I've been given a good twenty minutes to gaze at this beauty. There's something addictive about his pensive stare and the way his eyes take on a deep, ageless look. I'd give anything to know his thoughts during those minutes, but I know that Squall isn't a man to share his life's burdens. He'll carry his cross until his last suffering breath and that will be his gift to those he loves most.

"Why me?"

"Why not you?" I ask in mock reply, amused by the slight frown I had caused.

"That's not an answer."

"It's enough of an answer when you aren't going to believe anything else I tell you." With a groaning sigh, I sit up from the blanket and reach for the forgotten basket. "Listen, I didn't drag you here so that we could have a heart-to-heart. You've had a lot of stress to deal with and your father mentioned that you liked driving to the ocean to calm down. While it's something I could've guessed on my own, Laguna seemed rather insistent about it and I decided to take the hint. Now, do you want some dessert before we have to leave or what?"

Squall looks at the basket as I remove a plastic container from the folds of cloth. "Is that...?"

"Yup, our wedding cake," I state with a playful grin.

"That was supposed to be Raine's wedding cake for Rinoa," he reminds with irritating logic.

"Details, details. Do you want some or not?"

Squall watches me place a square piece of the cake onto a small plate before he holds out his hand in acceptance of the dessert. Deciding to be lazy, I keep the second slice in the plastic container for myself and grab a pair of forks, one of which I hand to Squall. We say nothing while enjoying the white cake, the careful kitten especially taking his sweet time as he licks his fork clean of frosting after every bite. It's a torturous sight for my neglected libido, but I still watch on, unable to look away.

With a final bite remaining while I had finished a while ago, Squall frowns lightly and looks in my direction. "Did you want more?"

"It's not the cake I want," I say with a small laugh, but then I quickly snag that piece of cake from his plate and lift it in a silent offering to the brunet. "You did a good job of baking this."

Squall eyes me with clear frustration before he surprisingly takes the dessert into his mouth and licks away the spot of blue frosting from my thumb. "Hn, it wasn't bad, though a touch too much frosting for my tastes."

The brunet hardly finishes his statement before I have my lips pressed against his, my sudden hunger for the man impossible to resist. Squall flinches at the demanding kiss, but he doesn't retreat from me. Rather, with the passing surprise of my bold attack, he holds his ground and contributes to the joining with a sugar-coated tongue. I don't think to question his cooperation, my arms wrapping around his shoulders and waist in tight holds that ensure he can't retreat from me with ease.

Squall doesn't argue against the restraints, instead relaxes within my arms and grabs my shirt with a fisted hand when I flick the underside of his upper lip. It was an intoxicating kiss, and similar to an alcohol-induced state, time is completely lost to me as I further the connection while playing with ideas for more. But in the end, that decision isn't mine to make. Squall pushes at my chest to reform some distance between us, not an easy task as we had somehow ended up lying on the blanket, me resting on top of the smaller man.

"The wedding won't wait for us."

I scowl at that dose of reality, no matter how much it pleases me to see pale cheeks displaying a slight flush. "Can't you call in sick?"

Squall gazes up at me with the unspoken belittlement that I was being childish.

I sigh at the ruined moment and slowly lift up from the lithe brunet. Not looking at him, I move directly into the task of packing up the picnic basket, an easy chore as I hadn't done anything overly complex for the meal. Mostly sandwiches made from the leftovers from our previous attempt at a lunch, but it tasted good enough. I'll be the first to remind anyone that I'm a damned whore, not a gourmet chef.

A cold hand brushes against my neck, the touch startling me into looking up at the standing brunet.

"How's your shoulder?"

I blink in momentary confusion before a broad smirk takes over my expression. "You have a good set of teeth, princess," I state while pulling my shirt collar down to proudly display the set of red marks. "It still stings a bit and I'll bet there will be a bruise by tomorrow, so when we get frisky tonight, you may want to consider attacking my other shoulder."

Squall scoffs at my words, but there's still a pleased gleam to his eyes when he views the damage.

While I can tell that the brunet had wanted to discuss something other than the marring of my shoulder, I decide to play oblivious and finish packing the basket before lifting the blanket from clinging sand. Squall sighs at my hasty 'folding' of the blanket, but he doesn't make any vocal comment before turning around and heading in the direction of his father's car. Lord, it's a good thing he is an impatient soul, always giving me a great view of his ass whenever he hurries ahead of me. Now if only he'd wear that lovely leather number he has hiding away in his suitcase...

"Are you coming?" Squall asks from a fair distance away, his lengthy bangs falling over his eyes as he looks over his shoulder at me.

At that seductive sight, I mutter to myself a longing, "Not yet, princess, but hopefully tonight," before I smile at the beauty and wave that I had heard him.

His eyes narrow in suspicion at my delayed response, but he then shrugs a silent 'whatever' before continuing on his previous path in shifting sand, once again taunting me with ideas of hiding away all of his pants except for that pair of leather beauties. And as I follow behind, I consider that it might not be such a bad idea and I begin vague plans which could potentially leave me blameless in the theft of Squall's pants.

Strolling through the hallways of the hotel, I resist the urge to run my fingers through my hair, knowing that the gel won't survive the assault of my current frustration. Squall had gone missing, and after playing usher during his unexpected absence for the past fifteen minutes, I finally came to the decision that I had suffered long enough under the torture of old ladies and their surprisingly nimble fingers. If nothing else, I deserve some kind of thanks from Squall before returning to No Man's Land in his place, which might not be the worst of ideas. God knows that the pretty boy would receive a friendlier reception than I would and I don't think I exactly care for others doting on him like that.

It doesn't take long to reach the dining hall which is being prepared for the reception later tonight. No one bothers to lift their heads as I walk through, the hotel workers lazily assuming I'm a part of the upcoming wedding simply because of my formal attire. Thankful for that disregard, I focus on the glass double doors which lead outside to the balcony from last night, that being the best hiding place which I can imagine Squall would use. And when I notice that one of the doors is ajar, I grin at winning this game of hide-and-seek. But with a hand wrapped around the door handle, I freeze at the voice heard from outside.

"You can stop pretending, Squall. It's okay to show your true emotions."

The sound of Rinoa's plea brings a sneer to my lips, but I manage not to charge forward since I know that I won't be welcomed in this particular battle. But there's no one here to tell me that I can't stay, and truth be told, I can't leave Squall alone with the determined girl. With a gentle press against the door, I give myself a narrow view of Squall resting back against the balcony railing and the bride-to-be standing directly between us.

Arms crossed and his head bowed, Squall asks quietly, "Is this why you wanted to speak with me?"

"Of course. I've seen how much pain you've been in this week and I had to let you know... I'm so happy."

My hand tight on the door handle, it's a struggle to stay in place and not rescue Squall from the cooing voice and close presence of his admittedly lovely step-sister. It's hard to believe her gall at this point, the girl dressed in her costly wedding gown and prepared to pledge her life to one man while encouraging Squall to steal her away. Pity the fools who manage to get wrapped up in this woman's romantic fantasies.

At Squall's silence, Rinoa presses closer to the dark-haired man and places a manicured hand at his cheek. "Whatever you decide to do today, I'm fine with your choice."

"Why would I do anything?" Squall questions in a harsh tone that causes Rinoa to pull back her hand as if frostbitten, a most delightful sight that calms my irritated state.

"But, you... we're meant..." Rinoa stutters slightly, obviously not expecting the sharp response from the reserved man.

Squall sighs at the girl's self-made dilemma. "I don't know what I've done to make you think that anything could be possible between us, but enough is enough. I've tried to ignore your advances, I've tried to explain that I'm gay, and I've even tried to place an entire country between us. Nothing has worked to make you see the truth." With a steady hand, Squall pushes up from the railing and stands tall in front of the raven-haired girl. "The simple fact is that I don't want you, Rinoa. I never have and I never will."

A hand clutched to her chest, the bride stares up into unforgiving steal eyes. "Why... Why are you saying such things?"

"I think you know."

"Is it because of that so-called boyfriend of yours?" When Squall doesn't deny her assumption, Rinoa gains some confidence. "He's an escort, you know. Kendra recognized him from the clubs in New York. They say he'd have sex with anyone for the right amount of cash. He must be playing you for your money."

It's near impossible to stay in place and simply stand here when I have the overwhelming urge to defend myself to Squall. But just when I consider the consequence of revealing my eavesdropping status, I hear a breath of laughter from the brunet and I watch dumbly as his lips curl into a half-smile.

"Seifer doesn't want my money," he states as his blue-gray eyes shift to surprisingly meet my gaze from beyond the doorway. "His motives go deeper than that."

"But he _can't_ love you, not like I do. And he's the type who could never be faithful to you. He would only hurt you in the end. And..." Rinoa hesitates before blurting out, "And he can't give you the children you want!"

"While that last part is true, I suppose we could always adopt if we so chose," Squall replies softly before he returns his attention to Rinoa. "But as for everything else... Tell me, Rinoa, how can I believe that you would be faithful to me when you're betraying Nida at this very moment?"

The raven-haired woman flinches back as if slapped. "Nida... I... I love him, but when I see you, I feel so much more. Nida can't compare to you, but you were gone for so long and he was good to me. I forgot... and he proposed..."

"Then continue to forget. Live your life with someone who can love you."

"I want _you_."

"I will never be yours," Squall says in a dead tone that brings a chill to my blood.

A hiccough sounds from the bride, something mixed between a sob and a word of some origin, but she doesn't say anything understandable aside from a harsh apology before turning and running in the direction of the doors. I nearly don't move out of the way fast enough, the door thrown open as Rinoa rushes past me without ever acknowledging my presence. Several of the hotel workers pause in their tasks to watch the bride run through the dining hall, their eyes then turning to me to silently question if there was still going to be a wedding today. I can only shrug, which seems to dampen their moods as they're forced to continue setting tables in the unlikely chance that the wedding would go forward.

Rinoa hardly being my concern, I turn and find Squall with his back to me as he leans over the balcony railing. I hesitate in that moment, distracted by the beauty of the man dressed in a rented, but nicely fitting tuxedo. The ocean breeze picks up and causes dark chestnut strands to sway in an enticing manner, revealing pale skin to the late afternoon sun. I'm nearly overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him without warning, to free his body from the constraints of his tuxedo, and to fuck him until he can't focus on the numerous pains of his life. But pushing back those possessive desires, I realize that more than anything, I need to stand by his side and be there for the stoic man, even if he doesn't want me there.

That thought foremost in my mind, I finally break out from my watcher's position and step onto the balcony. My formal shoes click on the hard stone, neither that noise nor my approach startling Squall in any visible fashion. I walk directly to the concrete railing and lean over in a similar pose to the smaller man. While he continues to stare out at the distant ocean, I gaze down at his face without any interest to look away.

"That was brave," I eventually state.

His eyes narrow in annoyance, but for once his irritation isn't directed at me. "Why didn't she understand from the beginning? Why did I have to hurt her like that?"

"Because people don't want to believe the truth unless it's thrown in their face. It's a lot easier to pretend that everything is okay and going just as planned rather than admit that you've fucked up. And for some very special people, they'll believe in their fairy tale dreams until every brick of their castle crumbles and falls from underneath their feet."

"But why? It doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't and there's nothing you can do about it." A moment of silence passes and I find myself folding and unfolding my hands a few too many times. In an effort to hide the sudden anxiousness that I feel, I cross my arms and sink lower into my hunch. "I'm sorry for listening like I did. That was a little low, even for someone like me."

He shrugs. "I saw you from the beginning. If I didn't want you there, I would've said something."

I grin stupidly at the thought that Squall had wanted me around, and though I know he's strong enough to handle himself without me, I wonder if I gave him that extra amount of courage to chase off the idiot bride. "So, I'm curious - if I don't want your money, then what are those 'deeper motives' of mine that you mentioned?"

Squall doesn't reply immediately, his eyes distant in thought before he says, "It seems that you want everything from me."

My breath catches at the response and I can't help wondering when the kitten finally got a clue about my intentions. Just this morning, he seemed dense as ever and I was beginning to believe that he'd never be able to connect the bright neon dots. "Well, that's interesting. What makes you think that?"

"I know you refunded your contract money this morning."

My teeth setting into a hard sneer, I glare beyond the balcony and at the ground two stories down. "Fucking _shit_, I told Kinneas to keep his mouth shut. I should've known better than to trust a smooth-talker like him to make a promise and keep it."

"Don't blame him. When you returned the money and he asked why, you apparently replied that I had made up for the difference. That made him worried that I had somehow convinced you to let me pay for everything, so Irvine approached me about it. He tried to be subtle, but the idiot hasn't been able to hide anything from me since middle school."

Glancing over to Squall, I stare into pale blue eyes and feel momentary pity for the playboy. Given the cowboy's overtly heterosexual mentality, it was a surprise to discover that Kinneas is pretty much Squall's bitch. And sadly, I don't imagine that any woman will be able to control Kinneas with the same tight reins.

An irritated sigh escapes me when I tell Squall, "I didn't want you to know."

"Why not?"

"Would you believe me if I said that I wanted to use it as blackmail for a later date?"

Eyes of piercing blue-gray glare at me, his answer clear that, no, he wouldn't believe such an excuse and he also wouldn't appreciate any more sarcasm or lies until I give him an explanation that would satisfy his need for logic and reason in the world.

I run a hand through my hair, not really caring what damage it'll cause. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, princess, but there was no deep purpose behind my actions. With everything that has happened this week, it felt wrong to keep the money, so I returned it. It's not like I really need it."

Squall continues to stare at me, his unreadable eyes seeming to question my sanity. But then a soft smile overcomes his features, his entire expression changing into something gentle and exposed before he returns his attention to the view beyond the balcony. "You know, constantly calling me 'princess' still doesn't make you a prince of any worth."

Though I can feel my lips stretching into a wide and horribly ridiculous smile, I can't tame that open expression any more than I can stop the rapid rhythm of my heartbeats. In an effort to shield the brunet from my open desire, I follow his lead and return to a hunched position over the balcony railing. "I'll have you know that I've been called a prince on many occasions."

"If it was within ten feet of a bed, it doesn't count."

I laugh at the exasperated tone, impressed that Squall had easily guessed that I was referring to the times I had been paid to roleplay a foreign prince during those numerous occasions. It's quite surprising how many women have fantasies about being kidnapped and ravaged by someone of royal blood. But I suppose I don't have much room to talk - I'd do just about anything to see Squall dressed up like a princess and crying out for a prince to rescue him.

After a period of quiet thought and reflection, I glance down at my watch and notice the time is later than I thought. Though I doubt Squall will appreciate it, I have to ask, "Do you think there will be a wedding today?"

Squall doesn't respond immediately, his eyes narrowing in thought before he speaks in a quiet voice, "I don't know, and I don't feel like finding out."

"That's fine by me," I reply, perfectly fine with avoiding the wedding if that's what Squall wants. "We can stay here until your father finds us."

An unexpected laugh sounds at my comment. "In that case, I hope that you had enough to eat at lunch. We won't be leaving until after nightfall at the earliest."

I glance at the dark-haired beauty, and though he smiles lightly at whatever inside joke had made him laugh, I can tell his lips are a touch too tight and his eyes don't shine with the same amusement that he had forced into his voice. Further closing the distance between us, I lean in his direction and warn him, "I wouldn't worry about that, princess. I'm not going anywhere, and you can't get rid of me."

His expression softening into something neutral and tired, Squall hums out his acknowledgement that I won't leave him in this state, at least not alone. I trust his father and maybe Kinneas to watch over the quiet brunet, but it makes me anxious to consider leaving Squall alone and vulnerable to his all-consuming thoughts. So I simply lean against the concrete railing while directing my gaze toward the distant ocean, but I see nothing of that coastal view, my awareness completely focused on the man standing at my side.

It's for that reason that I manage to remain still when an elbow presses against mine. Unable to think, unable to _breathe_ for several moments, I consider what it means to be allowed this contact with Squall when he'd probably rather be left to himself. Does he trust me? Does really want me here? Does he know how much I could potentially love him?

But in the end, I'm not the one who speaks first.

"Even though you returned that money, I still think that your price is too high for me."

I stare at him for the unexpected statement, my surprise eventually fading into curious amusement as I retort, "That's funny. And here I thought I had given you a blank check to use as you please."

Squall scoffs lightly in argument. "It may seem that way to you, but..." With a pause for breath, the brunet looks down at his hands and says, "Right now, I don't think I'm of the right mind to be making choices that could ruin my life."

A bitter laugh escapes me as I ask, "So, you think I'd ruin your life, huh?"

"Hn, most likely," he says with a slight smile, one that fades when he continues, "But it could be worse to lose you before I can understand what you do to me."

"Squall..."

"I can't afford your price," Squall says quickly, blue-gray eyes focused intently on his hands. "I don't know if I can ever afford the price you're asking from me."

Beyond the spoken words, I can hear what the careful man truly wants to say - he's afraid to love again and leave himself vulnerable to another man. It's interesting that I share those similar fears, but while Squall has decided to live the life of a monk, I have drowned myself in meaningless relationships that could never hurt me once they inevitably failed. It's intimidating to have this chance at something real for once. Intimidating, but reviving.

And though I have a bad feeling that I could end up bleeding and broken if I continue on this path and Squall eventually decides that I'm not worth the chance of pain, I can't give up on this opportunity to have something I've always wanted. I can't let Squall go without a fight.

"If you can't pay that price now, then what about monthly installments until everything is paid in full?"

Squall turns his head to focus a wholly suspicious expression at me. "And what would these 'monthly installments' entail?"

"Depends on my mood, I suppose. But I swear that it wouldn't be something you'd regret."

He continues to study me with piercing eyes, his posture guarded and careful in that moment of silent consideration. Eventually his decision is made with a drawn-out breath, and with his focus returning to his folded hands, Squall comments, "I think I've regretted this since I let Irvine buy you."

I grin at the lacking venom in his voice. "Don't confuse regret with the disappointment you feel at not meeting me sooner."

Pale lips twitch into an almost smile, but Squall doesn't react otherwise to my open invitation for some healthy and harsh banter.

"Something else on your mind there, princess?"

Squall starts to shake his head in denial, but he stops himself short. Blue-gray eyes narrow in a sign of pain, and though he hesitates, something makes him decide to trust me this one time. "I was thinking about this morning," he says distantly. "When I was with Piet, he would get mad if I touched him too much during sex. He'd complain that he could lose something important from frostbite. But you--"

I immediately grab onto a hand and intertwine my fingers with his. Lifting his chilled hand to my lips, I kiss his knuckles at length before gazing up into gorgeous eyes of blue silver. "Obviously he wasn't someone who knew how to properly warm a lover."

Squall surprisingly doesn't reject the affectionate words. Instead, he smiles weakly, and with a squeeze of my fingers, he presses his forehead against our joined hands. I step close at that point and wrap my free arm around his waist, wanting to add a physical display of my support for this complex and irresistible man. Squall relaxes into my embrace, and though no tears are meant to fall this day, he freely gives me this fragile piece of his existence.

It's incredible and ridiculous that he can complain that I have a high price, but in the end, I'm the one who has to live up to the amount he is willing to pay. And frankly, I don't know what it means that Squall has already decided that I have potential to be whatever he needs. I'm not accustomed to people seeing me for what I am or what I can be, only what I should be for the amount of money they have placed into my hand. It's relieving, terrifying, and amazing to have this chance held out before me, and though it'll be an incredible trick to not fuck this up, I have a feeling I'm not alone in wanting this to work. We both have a price to pay, and well...

"It'll be worth the price, Squall. I'll make certain of that."

~ > < ~

Attempting soft steps that won't bring a complaint from the stairs, I move quietly in the direction of the kitchen in search of leftover alcohol or something else useful that would help me go to sleep. It was an unusual occurrence for Squall fall directly asleep while I found myself wide awake and with no hope of joining the difficult man in dreamland. I don't even know why today's events have left me anxious and full of thoughts while Squall appears untroubled with the current state of affairs. If he was a good guy, he should have at least let me fuck him before he fell asleep and helped me to burn off some extra energy. But instead, the bastard had curled into a slight ball and left me behind to stare at him in peaceful slumber.

"What are you doing up at this hour, son?"

I jerk at the unexpected voice and nearly trip on the last step. A hand reflexively pressed against my chest, I swear quietly, "Holy shit, I wasn't expecting anyone to be down here."

Laguna pops out from the kitchen and chuckles at my reaction. "Oh, sorry about that. I heard you coming down the stairs and I thought Squall was joining me for some hot milk. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I have a young heart," I mutter as I run a hand through my hair and hope to regain some dignity in front of the older man.

With a pleased smile, Laguna waves for me to come closer and reenters the kitchen area. "I doubt you're the milk sort of guy, so how about something a little bit harder? I'm afraid I don't have a great selection, but I have some scotch, brandy, vodka..." He continues speaking, the words lost to me as he sticks his head into the cabinet and probably reads the labels from the bottles hidden in the back.

"Actually, I haven't had hot milk in years. It's probably better for me, anyway."

Bumping his head against a shelf on his way out, Laguna stands up and looks over his shoulder while trying to hide the pain he's feeling. "Oh, milk is it? Just give me a minute here..."

I watch as the older man moves through the kitchen, his actions clumsy and uncoordinated, but he somehow manages to not make a disruptive sound that would wake everyone else in the house. Long hair tied back in a way that best shows his profile, I can see the features he passed along to his overly reserved son, even if their personalities are nothing alike. It makes me curious if Squall will share his father's blessing and keep a youthful appearance throughout the decades to come. Growing old might not be so bad if I'll have a seemingly young boytoy hanging on my arm, fulfilling my every perverted desire.

Three mugs of milk are placed into the microwave, and with the press of the 'start' button, Laguna turns around and flashes a bright smile at me. "Hot milk coming in a few minutes."

I breath a laugh at his expression, something utterly unbecoming of a man in his late forties. "You do realize that there's only two of us here."

"Hmm? Oh, the three mugs. Well, I imagine Squall will be down shortly, especially since you've left his side, so it's better to be prepared."

I shake my head as I resist loud laughter, certain that Squall wouldn't appreciate his father's assumption. "I doubt that one. He'll probably sleep better without me taking up half of the bed."

"Nonsense. The last two nights were the first nights in years that Squall has slept through until morning while staying here. I wish I knew what bothers him about coming home, but I'll admit to being selfish and enjoying our nightly talks. You've ruined that for me," Laguna jokes with a hard elbow to my stomach.

"Hey, don't blame me," I complain, hoping to hide the fact that I know several reasons as to why Squall would feel anxiety in his childhood home. "I didn't even know that he wakes up at night. I thought his issue was getting to sleep."

"As you must have guessed by now, Squall has many issues," Laguna states with lacking humor. He then hurries to the microwave, stopping the thing before the time could run out with a loud beep. He grabs two mugs and closes the door with his elbow, leaving the third mug for Squall's supposed appearance later. Handing a hot mug to me, he sips from his own cup and earns a burnt tongue for the idiotic move. "Whew, that's certainly hot. Careful with it."

Grinning at his kind-hearted action, I accept the mug and stare down into the white depths. God, it feels so warm against my hands.

"Well, that's an interesting expression."

I lift my head and look at Laguna, the man bearing a smile that is far too broad for my likes.

He chuckles lightly. "Sorry, but the whole time you've been here, I have yet to see you look so... boyish. Did your mother make you hot milk when you couldn't sleep?"

"Nah," I reply while returning my focus to the steaming liquid. "She wasn't around for that."

"Oh, then your father?"

I smile bitterly. "Never knew the bastard."

Expected silence follows that statement, Laguna probably considering the proper condolence to give me. I really shouldn't have said anything, but there's something about the old guy that makes it hard to hold my tongue. I imagine that's why Squall loves him so much, the dour brunet able to open up in the presence of his doting father when no one else would do.

"So hey, thanks for the milk," I say, wishing that I had stayed upstairs and suffered with a dark-haired beauty wrapped within my arms. "Hopefully it'll help--"

A hand settles on my shoulder. "Hey now, don't run away just yet, son."

"It's no big deal," I say sharply, unable to look at the man. "It was stupid to mention it, so please, just forget I said anything."

"I'll do no such thing. Obviously it's important to you."

"Not really," I argue with a shrug. "I've just never had someone heat up some milk for me before and it's... well, kind of strange."

Laguna squeezes my shoulder before removing his hand. "I suppose that makes sense. Nothing is quite like having a parent look after you."

I choose a sip of warm milk instead of responding.

The older man sighs wistfully. "This is going to be interesting to have two boys to watch over instead of the one. I suppose I should be thankful that both Ellone and Rinoa have found someone to keep them out of trouble."

It's hard to control my expression at the mention of Rinoa and her unbelievable nerve to go through with the wedding. Probably only her, Squall, and myself know that the 'blessed' event had almost never happened. Even so, she had looked the part of the blushing bride during the reception, something that had shocked the Hell out of me until Squall said quietly – “She accepted his proposal for a reason.”

I shake my head slightly, not wanting to think about the confusing woman more than necessary. "Well, thanks for that vote of confidence, but I'm not quite certain Squall will keep me around long enough for it to matter. He'll wake up one of these mornings and realize that he's sick of me."

Laguna chuckles. "Say what you will, young man, but I was the one to find the two of you standing out on that balcony after the wedding. Neither of you noticed that the reception had started and you both seemed so... comfortable with each other, just standing there. It reminded me of when Raine had finally agreed to date me. The dinner was a disaster, the movie was sold out, and my car broke down when I tried driving to another movie theater. I was devastated, but I convinced her to let me walk her home. Just by chance, we stumbled upon this park that had a beautiful pond with some fish. I don't remember how long we stood there on that bridge, but it was long enough for Raine to ask me out on a second date. God, she was an amazing woman, and Squall is just like her."

It's hard not to smile at the man's ramblings, his heart and thoughts exposed with every word he speaks and action he takes. And something about that honesty makes me want to respond in kind. "He is something else, and... I think I'm in love with him."

Laguna grins happily, no surprise appearing in his expression. "Of course you are."

I attempt a sip of the warmed milk before asking, "Don't you find it strange in the least?"

"What, with you being an escort and not really his boyfriend? It was disappointing at first, but it was a nice surprise to see how things changed once you two spent most of your time together," he says with an oddly sharp gleam to his eyes and his lips set in a vague smile. "In any case, I've had time to grow accustomed to the idea. After that second day, Squall first started to complain that you wouldn't stop touching him. But now it makes sense why you're the type who grabs hold and doesn't let go."

Though somewhat unnerved by impossible thoughts that the old man had played some role in this whole situation, I find myself frowning at his statement for some other reason that I can't place a finger on

"Ah, don't take that the wrong way, son. Squall may have been complaining, but while it started with his typical 'personal space' reasons, I don't think he realized that his complaints changed to describing how you'd somehow sneak your arm around him without him noticing. He's been getting comfortable with you and he doesn't understand it."

While somewhat relieved by that answer, I look curiously at the older man while he sips gingerly at his milk. "Does Squall really talk about this stuff with you?"

"Only when he's exhausted or distracted," Laguna replies with a weak smile. "I'm afraid he doesn't say much else otherwise, but it's enough when he does."

There's nothing to say to his statement, so I drink more of the warmed milk while thinking about everything this man must have gone through with his impossible son. I feel a degree of sympathy for him, but that only makes me wonder what the Hell I'm doing to get involved with Squall when I know he's trouble.

Soft steps suddenly sound, then followed by a quiet, "Dad?"

"In here, son," Laguna calls out, a broad smile returning to his face.

Squall appears from around the corner, his thick hair a mess from disruptive sleep and his pale blue-gray eyes not quite focused on the world around him. "I thought I heard... oh," he says once noticing that I was present. The brunet then looks at his father with a light glare. "What have you been telling him?"

Laguna laughs lightly while moving to the microwave and retrieving the warmed cup of milk for his son. "We're just enjoying a nightcap before trying to get to sleep."

Though doubt was clear in his expression, Squall accepts the mug. "I don't want you giving him ideas."

"I'm right here, you know," I point out with a raised mug. "And I already have plenty of ideas of my own, thank you very much."

Scoffing into his milk, Squall surprisingly moves to lean against the same counter as myself. "I know all about your ideas and I don't need him encouraging you."

I think to mention that it's too late, that Laguna has already offered himself as a father-in-law of sorts, but it's something I don't feel like sharing right away. Maybe I'm embarrassed about it on some level, or more likely I'm afraid to jinx this new and fragile relationship, but either way, it's something that I want to keep for myself and enjoy for as long as it'll last.

Squall and Laguna exchange a few words, mostly about the timing of the flight tomorrow and when we should arrive at the airport. It's nothing complex, nothing unusual, but I recognize the truth behind Laguna's previous words that it didn't matter to him how much Squall talked, that the few words were enough. It's almost sad how dark green eyes shine when Squall mentions that he doesn't think we have to be there as early as the airline recommends. It'll mean an extra thirty minutes to our stay here tomorrow and Laguna already seems to be counting those seconds.

With a fake yawn that ends up turning into the real thing, Laguna announces, "Well, this old man is ready for bed. I'll see you both in the morning. Maybe I'll make waffles. Waffles sound good."

Hiding a yawn of my own, I watch the man stumble off in the direction of the master bedroom. "I think he might have a good idea. This milk thing did better than I thought it would."

"Why did you leave in the first place?"

I glance down at the brunet, somewhat surprised by the question. "Couldn't sleep. And since you weren't awake for some physical activity, I decided to look for some alcohol."

"This isn't alcohol," he states as he sets his emptied mug on the counter.

"Yeah, well, your father mentioned it and I couldn't really remember the last time I tried warm milk to get to sleep."

"It's better for you."

I grin at the comment, curious how many times he may have fed that line to Kinneas. "It seems to have done the trick, too. I think I'm ready to curl up with my Pookie and fall asleep."

Squall directs a muted glare in my direction, the threat clear that he doesn't appreciate being associated to a childhood blanket.

I don't know if it's something about the faded light in the room or because of my short talk with Laguna, but I find myself staring into blue-gray eyes and unable to look away. I remember being irritated by these pale eyes and the way they viewed coldly on the rest of the world. I didn't understand anything in those first minutes and I probably still don't know anything about what makes this man tick, but God help me, I want him. Whatever it takes, I want to make this work.

"What is it?"

I grin at the harsh question, realizing that I had probably been staring too long if I've made the reserved man speak out in annoyance. I choose not to respond with words and instead brush aside dark chestnut strands from his forehead to reveal more of his pale skin. My hand cupped at the side of his face, I press a kiss against his forehead, then just over his eyebrow and continue to the corner of a closed eye. His skin soft against the brush of my lips, I'm slowly overwhelmed by the sensation of being intoxicated as I drift lower along the gentle curve of his face. By the time I reach his lips, Squall abruptly lifts up and initiates the imminent kiss with a roughness that nearly knocks me off balance. I find myself needing to catch up to the eager kitten, our tongues tangling and fighting for dominance in a perfect kiss that I want to last until the lack of breath could make one of us collapse. But Squall manages a quick escape, the sound of panted breaths and the glaze to his eyes making it sorely difficult to keep the distance between us.

"That... was interesting," Squall says hoarsely, the dark-haired man then adopting a confused expression as if the world had suddenly turned upside-down on him. "Is this how it should be?"

"How what should be?" I ask as I stroke the corner of his lips with my thumb.

Squall stares at me with narrowed eyes, but the expression quickly fades into something softer. Whatever had happened in that head of his, I'll never know since he says nothing while instead placing a chilled hand on top of mine and squeezing lightly.

"You're such a tease, princess," I comment while enjoying the cooler touch of his hand, something that helps to ground me and stop me from doing something incredibly stupid. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

"Whatever you do, save it for New York. I'm tired."

"Mmm, then shall I carry you to bed?"

"That won't be necessary," Squall states softly, his voice suggesting complete refusal of any other proposal made from this point forward.

"Damn, you're a cold-hearted lover."

With a slight grin, Squall informs me, "And now you know."

I stand in place with a stunned, yet pleased smile while Squall pulls away from my touch and turns around to head back upstairs. I mutter a quick, "Now I know," to myself before I hurry after the escaping brunet.

With that first step up the stairs, I have a sudden feeling that I'll always be chasing after this difficult man. I suppose that I should be bitter about it and maybe even give up before I start looking too much like a lovesick fool, but if there's one benefit about this situation, it's that Squall has an ass that is worth following in more ways than one. I can only hope that he doesn't catch on to this game and realize that he isn't the only one paying a price to subject himself to something that could end in heartache. But whenever I look into his eyes and lose myself in everything that makes him irresistible, I realize that there's only one truth:

No price is too high for love.

Now, to begin this adventure of convincing Squall of that simple truth. One step, one kiss, one embrace at a time… And somehow, I already know that every effort will be worth it.

{Continued}


	5. Chapter 5

[Epilogue - six weeks later]

[Squall]

Seated at a table for two, I gaze out the nearby window and look down at the crazed city street one story below. It's shortly before five o'clock and everyone is already hurrying to their respective Friday night event, whether it be spending the evening with their families at home, or going out to the darkest corners of the city to drink hard and do whatever else it takes forget the problems of the week. It doesn't help that today is the first freezing day of the year, forcing them to bundle in forgotten coats and speak with misty breaths, most likely complaining about it being too early for weather as bad as this.

Gaining a chill from the view below, I return my attention to the mug of black coffee cupped between my hands and stare at the reflective surface of the dark liquid. But even with my attention on the mug, I can still see the corner of a white envelope that can't be fully hidden beneath my bent arm. Damn, it's pathetic to be terrified of a rectangular piece of paper and it's entirely Seifer's fault that this unexpected fear has overwhelmed me like this.

Everything is Seifer's fault.

As if summoning a demon, my thoughts make the green-eyed man appear. It's disturbing, really, how I can tell the moment when Seifer enters a room without even seeing him. One by one, heads turn to view upon the tall man of golden hair and disarming smiles. And though my back is to the entrance, it's an easy task to track the former escort's progress through the cafe judging by the awed and disgusted whispers that follow him. It's for that reason I don't react when, without greeting or warning, Seifer drops directly into the chair across from me.

His green eyes bright and dangerous, Seifer flashes a Cheshire's smile as he unbuttons his trench coat. "I've got news."

I don't bother to respond to his excited tone, knowing that we will be interrupted before I can get out a full sentence.

"Evening, sir," our dark-skinned, dark-eyed waitress greets brightly, right on cue. "Is there something I can get you to drink?"

Without looking in her direction, Seifer waves aside the menu she tries to hand him. "I'll have the café mocha with extra chocolate. The smallest size, whatever you might call that here." The order makes me gaze amusedly at the idiot blond, Seifer knowing very well that I enjoy the taste of coffee and chocolate. Damn bastard, he'd do anything to ensure that our kisses will last a little bit longer.

The waitress pouts as she nods and leaves with a murmur that she'll get it right away.

"She's rather beautiful," I mention lightly. "Large-breasted, too."

Seifer frowns as he turns sharply to look at the retreating woman, and then back at me. "What, are you straight all of the sudden?"

I breathe a laugh while shaking my head, impressed how the blond grows a set of blinders whenever he has his mind set on me for whatever reason. Strangely enough, this absolute attention of his bothers me more than when those expressive jade eyes wander to view upon the other 'sights' of the city. In those moments, I'm fine with him looking around and deciding that he still wants to stay with me. But when he focuses on me and sees nothing else... I feel like I've sold my soul to this man and I just don't know it yet.

Seifer continues to scowl. "I don't see what is so damned funny. Was she flirting with you before I got here or something?"

With a scoff, I inform him, "I had to wait ten minutes before she took my order. Meanwhile, you walked in ten seconds ago and she's ready to have your babies."

The blond blinks at my dry tone, his pale lips slowly curling into an inevitable smirk. "Well, that's your own fault for looking so gay. She knew she didn't have a chance the moment she set eyes on you."

I sip at my coffee, allowing Seifer his smug moment before prompting, "So, what's your news?"

"Hn...? Oh yeah, the news - I got a second interview next week for a position within Senator Deling's staff," he announces with true pride. "And from what I could get from the secretary, I'm one of the top candidates."

Unable to hide my surprise, I ask, "When did you have a _first_ interview?"

"Last week," Seifer answers with a conspiring smile. "I didn't want say anything until I knew I had a real chance at this job."

Though well hidden, I can hear that hint of anxiousness to his voice, a touch of worry that contrasts greatly to his arrogant nature. I try not to smile at the knowledge that I've heard that tone once before, when he offered me his 'monthly payment’ option. He must really want this, more than he probably realizes himself. "I wouldn't worry about it, Seifer. You seem to always get what you want."

Green eyes brighten in pleasure at my comment. "Thanks, that really means something coming from you. But you know, if I do get the position, the pay is going to be shit since it'll be a government job and all. I'm going to have to rely on my sugar daddy to buy me gifts whenever I have a bad day."

I scoff, fairly certain that Seifer has more cash hiding away than I can imagine. Aside from nice clothing, occasional drinks, and a high-priced apartment, I haven't noticed any other indulgences where he could waste his money. I don't know why, but I've never really questioned his statement to my father about making a nice nest egg for the future. Truth be told, I probably figured that the man's main goal in life was to retire early at the age of thirty.

At that moment, the waitress appears with his drink and attempts to gain his eye, but Seifer has already lost his attention to another sight. His green eyes focused on the envelope hidden beneath my arm, he waits until the woman leaves before he asks, "You got yours, too, huh?"

I glance down at the envelope, stunned to notice that I had completely forgotten about the thing ever since Seifer had shown up. But with that passing surprise, I suddenly realize what words he had used. Looking back at the blond, I watch as he removes an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat.

Holding it out, Seifer asks, "Shall we trade or open our own?"

I hesitate while staring at the envelope that looks so plain, so innocent in nature. I can't remember how it came about or if alcohol was somehow involved, but two weeks ago, I had stupidly made the comment that I wanted to be tested for HIV one last time. The following day, I found myself in the waiting room of a clinic with a pair of nurses asking me where my 'future husband' and I were planning to go for our honeymoon. Seifer has yet to explain exactly how that rumor was spread. And now here we are, the results sitting in our hands and I haven't a clue why I feel this anxiousness when it never mattered before. I've always known the truth despite the words written on paper, but this time feels different for some confusing reason.

"Well?" Seifer prods, impatient for an answer.

I lean back into my seat and take my own letter in hand. Using a butter knife, I slice open the top portion of the envelope to reveal the papers within.

"Alright, our own then," Seifer mutters while tearing open his envelope with his thumb. He removes the papers without hesitation and scans the results of his various tests, the former escort wanting to be certain of his health beyond the chance of being infected with HIV. Staring at him without thinking about it, I realize that the man looks good right now - dressed in causal business clothes and an expensive trench coat that accentuates his broad frame, he appears a lawyer or the like mulling over important paperwork. While I know differently, I can't help being reminded of my attraction to this person who can be whatever a person wants for the right price. One of these days, I should figure out how and why I ended up with Seifer himself.

"Fucking shit, I can't believe this," Seifer says abruptly, startling me out of my dazed state. "It was one time and we didn't even have fucking sex. How is this possible?"

My heart dies in that instant as I stare at the blond, unable to speak or question what he is talking about. I fear that I already know.

"Squall," he begins softly, setting his paperwork on the tabletop. "I don't know how to say this, but... I'm pregnant."

"... Wh... what?"

"I know, I know, you haven't fucked me yet, but I haven't been with another guy in months and they say penetration isn't necessary--"

I reach over the table and smack him directly against the ear, the man then dodging before I can inflict even more pain.

"**Ow**, that hurt, princess," Seifer states while trying to hold back laughter. "I don't care how much you abuse me - I'm not getting an abortion."

"You asshole, do you really think this is funny? I thought that you... that you..." A hand clenched into a tight fist, I resist the desire to cause real damage to the large blond, not really caring that we've already attracted too much attention from the other cafe patrons. But my hand is quickly covered by Seifer's, his skin warm and consoling when he speaks quietly to me.

"No, it's not funny, but why haven't you looked at your results yet? You already think you're sick, so what's left for you to fear?"

I stare into sharp green eyes, startled by the question I haven't asked myself yet. In that moment, I know why I've been terrified of a mere letter, of a result that can't be any worse than the taint I already feel. And sadly, Seifer must have guessed it first. How pathetic, I've been outsmarted by an idiot blond.

Sliding my hand out from Seifer's, my voice won't sound louder than a whisper when I say, "I can't be with you if it says I'm HIV positive."

His frowns slightly, not pleased by the words that he was probably expecting to hear. "Yeah, I know."

I look away from his intense gaze and focus on the opened envelope resting on the tabletop. My hands are surprisingly steady when I remove the papers and unfold them. I stare for a long minute, not wanting to read the printed words as I think about the years I've lived like this, certain of my disease and impending death. For the first time, I had started to feel a measure of hope, a desire to live beyond the stain that Piet had placed on my life. And now my life is to be determined by a piece of paper.

A warm hand once again settles on mine, it being Seifer's form of silent support and impatient prodding to know if I'm going to get rid of him. And with his thumb stroking my chilled skin, I have the sudden overwhelming need to know the same and I focus on the words that will decide everything.

"Damn it," I say in a shaky breath, the curse causing Seifer to squeeze my hand tightly, painfully. I lift my eyes to look at him and find the most pathetic pleading expression on his face, one I imagine that he had used many times as a child. With a slight shake of my head, I complain, "I can't believe I'm stuck with you."

After a moment of stunned silence, Seifer breaths a disbelieving laugh as he presses his free hand to his face. "Holy shit, princess, you really had me going there. I don't think I've ever been so fucking scared in my life."

"Scared?"

"Heck yeah, scared. I thought I was losing you in two different ways there."

I manage a shadow of a smile at the relieved sound to his voice, but that moment fades quickly as I set down the papers. "Seifer... Listen, I know what it says here, but..."

"Hey, I know better than to expect too many miracles at once. You're HIV negative for another day and you've admitted that you love me. I can wait until tomorrow for you to believe that you aren't damaged merchandise."

While comforted that Seifer isn't expecting the impossible from me, I'm forced to point out, "I never said that I love you."

"Of course you did," he insists while lifting my hand and pressing it against his cheek. "You took this test again when you've said that it isn't perfect and that it didn't matter how many times the results said you were negative. You took it again and decided to believe in this result. You did it because you love me."

"Bastard, quit assuming things about me."

"It's not an assumption," Seifer argues with a pleased smirk, refusing to release my hand when I try to pull it back. Poisonous green eyes focused solely on me, the former escort kisses the back of my hand before asking, "Are you going to come to my apartment tonight?"

I don't reply immediately, not entirely certain that I'm ready for the real question that he is asking. It's been six weeks, but I have yet to visit his apartment, that somehow becoming the defining line of when I was ready to give him the last of myself. Considering his lecherous past and obvious hungers, it's incredible that Seifer has waited this long because of my fears. But that only makes it harder to remind him, "The test could still be wrong."

"It could be, but I still want you."

"Hn, so you tell me daily. You shouldn't have quit being an escort if it would've given me some peace."

Seifer scoffs, his hand tightening. "I don't cheat, Squally-boy, so stop suggesting it and just tell me, 'Why yes, honey bunny, I'd love to have long, hard monkey sex in your bed.' Got it?"

I should be offended, I should want to kick him in a place that would make him rethink sex tonight, but instead, I find my mouth moving and my treacherous voice asking, "You'll play it safe?"

"Always," he replies immediately, the gleam to his eyes and the smirk on his lips not overly assuring, but I still find myself believing in his word.

"Alright, then show me why people pay good money for an idiot bastard like you."

~ > < ~

My lower back pressed uncomfortably against the edge of a countertop, I smile into the sudden kiss forced upon me. The kitchen was the second stop in Seifer's tour of his apartment, and though I had caught a glimpse of an amazing view beyond the windows, I doubt that I'll be allowed to see anything else aside from the bedroom tonight. As if to confirm that thought, the large hands cupping my ass squeeze tightly before sliding up and grabbing onto my sweater. A sharp tug is my only warning before Seifer steps back and proceeds to remove the warm material without managing to strangle me.

The sweater dropped to the tiled ground, I'm once again trapped within the strong arms of the blond as he renews the broken kiss that expectedly tastes of bitter chocolate. I can hardly remember to breathe, let alone consider how easily things could go wrong tonight as Seifer continues to steal away my sense with every harsh kiss and heated touch. I know I should stop, that I should take a moment to _think_, but instead I place my hands deep into his styled hair and do my best to free the strands from hardened gel. God, I'm in trouble with this seducer.

The sudden ring of the phone makes me jump, the reaction drawing a laugh from Seifer as he moves his attention to my neck. I think to ask him if he should be answering that, but when a deft hand unbuttons and unzips my pants before the second ring sounds, I figure Seifer would know if he should be expecting an important phone call. And if I wanted to be entirely truthful with myself, I didn't want to stop either.

After the fourth ring, the answering machine clicks on with Seifer's voice saying, 'Obviously I'm not going to answer the phone, so leave a message.' It's a little surreal to hear that cocky voice when his mouth is busy at the task of teasing one of my nipples in the determined attempt to draw pathetic sounds from me.

<"Uh, Seifer, it's me,"> the caller says over the answering machine, the voice instantly stopping me cold. For his part, Seifer groans and rests his head against my chest as the moment is effectively ruined. <"I mean, it's Laguna. I know you told me not to call tonight since you'd be out with Squall, but... well, I still thought I'd try just in case you were around. Anyway, once you get the chance, please give me a call. I'll be up late and there's that whole time difference, so... you know, call back. Thanks.">

As the answering machine clicks off, I glare down at the blond. "Why the Hell is my father calling you?"

Sighing, Seifer straightens from his hunched position and meets my angered gaze. "Listen, say whatever you want, but that guy really worries about you. We talked a few times while in California and... What's the problem with me giving him my number so that he can call and check up on you every now and again?"

"But he's calling _you_."

"Yeah? What's strange about that? Have you ever considered that maybe, just _maybe_, he wants some real answers about how you are doing and about what's new and wonderful in your life? Sorry, princess, but you aren't any easy stone to talk to."

I want to be angry at him and to yell at him for getting involved when he has no right, but instead an odd sense of relief fills me. Though I'd never admit it out loud, Seifer is probably right. I can remember far too many phone calls that involved me listening to my father and never answering in detail to his various questions. He had stopped calling as often, our talks happening maybe once a month at most, and even then I couldn't bring myself to say anything that could trouble him. God, I'm hopeless.

"You are so fucking lucky to have a father who cares," Seifer says as he brushes aside my bangs and gazes at me with a fond look to his eyes. "And he's really proud of you right now."

It takes a moment of thought before I realize what the blond means by that. "You told him about the HIV test."

"Yeah, I talked to him this afternoon about getting my results and mentioned that you had probably gotten yours. I'll bet he's on pins and needles waiting to hear about the big news."

It's all too easy to imagine my father pacing the length of his house, waiting to hear about the result and how I was taking it. Shaking my head in disbelief, I place my arms around Seifer's neck and press my body against his. "He'll have to wait until morning."

"Are you sure? It'd only take a minute."

"No conversation with my father takes a minute. In any case, he deserves to suffer for using you as his personal spy."

"Is that so?" Seifer asks with an interested look to his eyes. "Then what sort of punishment do you have planned for the spy himself?"

With a slight smile at his fast mind, I place a knee between his legs and rub the length of my thigh against the bulge easily felt through dark slacks. "You did mention that you have a 'well-stocked' apartment, didn't you?"

Seifer's reply is a throaty hum as he attempts to initiate another kiss that would too quickly take away my control. I dodge the kiss and slip out from between his arms, though a large hand still manages to grab onto my wrist.

Allowing him that hold, but refusing his attempt to pull me closer, I ask him, "Where's this bedroom of yours?"

~ > < ~

Some time later, I find myself still without my sweater and mysteriously without pants, seated at the edge of a king-sized mattress and lazily riffling through the drawers of a nightstand. I'll have to admit that Seifer wasn't kidding about having a nice supply on hand, though I didn't expect him to be quite this well organized about it.

"Uh, Squall...?"

I ignore the blond behind me and continue exploring through the packed drawers. The top drawer held all of the typical things expected of an escort - condoms, lubricants, flavored condoms, fresh cloths, and even more condoms with a supposed warming effect. The second drawer is a touch more interesting with vibrators, realistic dildos and other anal toys of all varieties. And to think, there's another nightstand on the other side of his bed that is intended for the ladies he more commonly brought home.

"Hey, _princess_, maybe a little help here?"

I smirk at the sound of chains scrapping against the metal bars of his stylized headboard. "Not yet. Still looking."

Seifer growls out a quiet curse, then muttering to himself, "'You have handcuffs? Do they really work?' Fucking _shit_, I can't believe I fucking _fell for it_."

I ignore his intentionally feminized version of my voice, feeling more amused that he had let himself be handcuffed without an ounce of struggle. Then again, I wasn't much help while distracting him with a firm hand and an exploring tongue. Curious at a very blue toy, I lift it out of the drawer and accidentally switch it on. The vibrator bouncing in my hands, I must look foolish with the damned thing, but shit, I can't believe these things have become so... flexible over the years. Really, when did they start making these things such that they flail at nearly a ninety degree angle?

"Holy mother," Seifer groans lowly as he shifts behind me. "Stop playing with those things before you break me."

The vibrator still going in my hand, I turn to look at the partly naked and very aroused blond. Dressed in an unbuttoned shirt and unzipped pants while chained to the bed, Seifer still manages to hold up his 'I'm a high-priced whore and you know it' facade. It's almost cute that he thinks it'd work on me. "Don't you mean 'stop before I break something'?"

"Yeah, _me_. I'm hurting here, princess. Give me some pity before I do something drastic."

I manage to switch off the vibrator, but I don't set it aside just yet as I finger the length of the object. "I don't know. With all of these toys, I could pleasure myself without having to deal with your needs. It'd probably be more satisfying, too."

Seifer actually looks worried for a second, his eyes shifting to the open drawer with a hint of jealously to the green irises. But then a slow, interested smirk overtakes his expression as he focuses on me. "I'd still get to watch, right?"

"I'm supposed to be punishing you," I remind the sex-crazed man as I put away the vibrator and close the drawer. "If I were to do anything with a toy, it would be in my own bedroom and with you left here to mull over your situation."

"You aren't that cruel," he says, though the slight crease of his forehead suggests that he isn't too certain about how terrible I can be when motivated.

Opening the top drawer of the nightstand, I glance over the available selection and breathe in relief that it isn't too creative. I remove a tube that I recognize from too many years ago and also grab a cloth and a couple of plain condoms that don't state anything about 'tasteful fun'. Seifer's expression certainly brightens at my actions, but I don't say a word that could give him a reason to assume the best.

With my final barrier in the way, I remove my briefs without much thought, but I can clearly feel the heat of green eyes tracing every line of my bare body. I still remember the first time I had laid naked beneath the handsome blond, maybe a week after returning to New York. I was certain we were going to have sex that night, but instead, Seifer only gazed at my body as if it were the first time he had seen a naked man. Then, several minutes later, he told me that I wasn't ready and that he wasn't about to hurt me to sate his libido. I was offended and humiliated at that moment, but I think I now understand what Seifer was waiting for that night, what I hadn't seen myself.

Shifting positions onto my knees, I move in front of the bound man and make a point of placing a good dose of lubricant onto my fingers. The tube set aside, I reach back and spread the greasy material around my anus before slipping in a single finger. Seifer jerks forward at that move, the action horribly predictable, but still very satisfying.

"This isn't fair," Seifer mutters as he glares at one of the metal cuffs. "Why the Hell didn't I buy the trick ones?"

"Because you don't think of consequences," I remind the large blond, his sour expression drawing a light laugh from me.

Preparing myself further, I realize that I'm growing closer to punishing myself instead of Seifer, so I decide to move forward with tonight's plans. With my free hand, I pull down on his boxers and release the strained erection from soft silk. I wet my lips before directing the attention of my tongue to the dark red head of his penis, somewhat frustrated at this recent hunger of mine to taste every part of Seifer. The arrogant man has yet to complain, his lips curling into pleased smirks whenever I can't seem to stop myself from licking and biting his skin, especially whenever I become fixated on that damned nipple ring of his. God help me if he seriously considers a piercing for his penis.

Not the first time I've pleasured Seifer in this way, I know some of the tricks he prefers most, but I don't want him to find his release before I've enjoyed him a bit more. My tongue leading the way, I lick and suck down the length of his erection, then moving further back to his sensitive balls and the area hidden just behind. Seifer squirms at the intimate touch, a surprised gasp escaping him when I place my teeth around a vulnerable nut and flick at the trapped flesh with the tip of my tongue.

"Holy fuck," Seifer curses in a hoarse voice. "If you want to do anything else in the next few minutes, I suggest _not_ doing that."

Heeding his warning, I release my mouth's hold from his sack and lap at the remaining salvia before I push up from the mattress. The change in position makes me inhale sharply at the greater pressure of my fingers against the walls of my anus. Satisfied that I had prepared myself enough, I remove my fingers and wipe the mess onto the cloth I had removed from his bedside chest. Given the lingering lubricant, I have to use my teeth to remove the condom from its wrapper, something about the action causing Seifer to grin brightly. I briefly consider wiping that smile from his face by trapping a few pubic hairs within the latex, but I instead play nice and correctly roll the condom over his length.

"Hey, Squall."

The serious voice catches my attention, encouraging me to look up into sharp green eyes.

"Unlock these fucking cuffs."

Smiling softly at the demand, I move forward on my knees and straddle his hips before wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. I lean forward to place a light kiss on his lips and say, "No."

With a rattle of chains, Seifer growls, "This is our first time together and you won't let me touch you?"

A chill courses through my body at his voice and message, and though I enjoy this momentary control over the arrogant man, he does have a point. I retrieve the key from the nightstand and use it to free his right hand, but then quickly toss the piece of metal to the end of the mattress. Before Seifer can question me, I inform him, "Just one hand. The other stays until we're done."

Though at first showing his annoyance, Seifer smirks at the condition and immediately abuses his renewed freedom to slap my ass. "You'll pay for this, Leonhart."

Silently arguing that he'll be the one who'll suffer for the undeserved spank, I lift up onto my knees and reach behind to grab his hard length. His arm promptly slips around my waist to steady me, the feel of quiet strength helping to soothe away the tension I didn't even recognize. Placing him at my entrance, I lower carefully onto his erection, my muscles at first rejecting that invasion, but I've wanted this for too long for me to quit after some pain. My breaths coming faster, I can't go all the way with that first move, so I instead sit in place and try to will my body to relax. His arm tightening around my waist, Seifer leans as far as he can and manages to place a kiss on my forehead.

"Take your time and make it feel good."

A breath of laughter leaves me, the shake of my body impaling me even further to the point of feeling his unzipped pants against my bare skin. "Is this how you treat all of your lovers?"

"Does it matter?"

I lean back to better look at his face, interested at the cautious gleam to his eyes. "... No, not really."

Pale lips slide into a lopsided smile as Seifer lowers his hand and squeezes my ass. "Then don't waste your breath with meaningless talk."

I mutter an amused, "Hypocrite," before settling my arms back around his shoulders. I lift up such that Seifer nearly slips free, but quickly drop back down to bring him further within me, the sharp jab of his cock making me hiss out from something that wasn't quite pain, nor something entirely pleasurable. I don't stop to consider that sensation, but instead repeat the action again, again, and again. Seifer helps as best he can with one free hand, but it's the creak of the bed and the scrape of chains that creates a type of beat that seeps into my head and fills me with the desire to make it go faster and harder. My fingernails dig into hot flesh in the need for more purchase and leverage, the action drawing a groaning purr from the large blond. The pleased noise affects me like a physical caress in all the wrong places, almost bringing me to the edge before I'm ready for that quick end.

Unexpectedly, Seifer's hand moves from its supportive position and slides up the length of my back, the gliding touch making me arch back against the press of fingers. A low growl comes from the blond, Seifer apparently not wanting that reaction from me as he buries his large hand into my hair and tries to bend me forward. I resist that forceful suggestion, not particularly interested a position that would make it harder to move, but a whispered plea telling me to come closer undoes me.

Once within reach, I'm attacked by a hard kiss that steals away my breath for several seconds. Like with all of Seifer's kisses, I lose my sense the instant his tongue entangles with mine, and in that moment of distraction, I forget to keep track of his wandering hand. The brush of his fingertips against my erection is apparently the last stimulus my sensitized body can handle. Forced to break the kiss, I breathe out a frustrated groan of release, disappointed that the former escort had beaten me once again despite his previously aroused state.

"Give me a minute," I say in a whispered breath, needing a moment to regain my strength before helping Seifer to find some satisfaction.

"Take all of the minutes you want," he teases with a pleased smirk. Placing his hand back into my hair, he encourages me to lean forward and rest against his bare chest.

While unable to resist the comfortable position, I still point out, "You're not done yet."

"I came while we were kissing, kitten," Seifer says with a chuckle. "You probably didn't notice because of the condom. I was just about to help you finish off, but damn, I guess you get pretty responsive once you've decided to enjoy the pleasures of sex."

Somewhat confused, I shift slightly in the attempt to determine if the blond was lying to me, soon surprised to notice that he was speaking the truth.

"Oh no, don't do that, kitten. Not if you want to walk tomorrow."

I glance up at his face, and after a moment of thought, I decide to offer, "Tomorrow is Saturday and I don't have to be anywhere."

Green eyes brighten in the dim light of his bedroom, Seifer then bending down to initiate another kiss, this one soft and coaxing in its caress. Though he is still deep within me and the desire is apparent in his body, I know by his kiss that he won't allow anything else tonight. At some point in the past several weeks, Seifer has decided that since he can't pull off being a prince, he's going to be a knight who will always be there to protect me. It's an irritating mindset, especially in times like these, but I haven't been able to tell him to stop being an idiot. Something always stops me before I can find the words, and though Seifer's kisses may be a large part of that, I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm tongue-tied about the matter for an entirely different reason.

"Squall..." Seifer breathes against into the kiss, his voice soft and seductive. "Can you release my other wrist now?"

At first bewildered by his request when I expected more nonsense from the blond, I glance at his bound wrist and immediately straighten when I notice the thread of blood slipping down his skin and past the cuff of his shirtsleeve. In my rushed motions, I can't prevent a wince as I lift up onto my knees and free myself of his softened length. Once able to properly move, I reach back and find the tossed key amongst the folds of the bed sheets.

Placing the key into the shackle, I scold him, "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I can't really say that I noticed the pain until just now," Seifer says, flexing his wrist the moment it's freed. "Anyway, it's just a little cut, nothing serious."

"Idiot," I mutter as I take a hold of his wrist and lap at the minimal amount of blood.

With a purring hum, Seifer places his hand at my neck and massages firmly. "That feels better."

The taste of his blood on my tongue, I stare at the arm in my hands and try to figure out why I become a thoughtless fool whenever I'm around the former escort. "You should clean it properly. I don't want to know what else these handcuffs have been through."

"Hn, I need a shower, anyway," he states with a smile that is hardly innocent and very suggestive of him thinking about what exactly these cuffs have seen. "And you're going to join me, right?"

My nod of agreement spurs the larger man into quick action, him jumping from the bed and removing his soiled pants, boxers, and condom before offering a hand in my direction. At my hesitation, Seifer encourages, "I've been wanting a shower with you for a long time, princess. Don't disappoint me now."

I reluctantly accept his hand, not quite certain of his intentions and somewhat curious about why he hasn't dragged me along for a shower in the weeks before tonight. When I stumble with my first steps from the bed, Seifer places a steadying arm around my waist and presses a kiss against my temple. He leads me into the large bathroom decorated in dark green and tan, a combination that gives a vaguely jungle feel to the room. Once certain that I can stand by my own power, Seifer releases me to turn on the hot water and remove his unbuttoned shirt. I find myself staring at the handsome form in front of me, desire stirring in my chest once looking at the fingernail impressions visible along his broad shoulders. The choice to look lower ends up being a bad one, Seifer turning around and shamelessly displaying his manhood that wasn't as limp as it should be.

"Ready to feel clean?"

I gaze into entrancing jade eyes, the odd thought coming to mind that I don't feel filthy anymore, not like I once did. I'm still afraid of what could be lying dormant within me, but my stain doesn't seem as dark anymore. More importantly, it doesn't seem to matter, not compared to whatever this is between Seifer and me.

But I don't say any of that to Seifer, not quite certain I could put words to my thoughts anyway. Instead, I step into the shower and feel relief at the flow of warm water. Seifer moves quickly behind me, his arms wrapping across my chest in a possessive and demanding manner. I place a hand at his arm, careful to avoid his injury despite its minor nature.

"I have nothing left," I state quietly, almost hoping for the shower to drown out my voice.

"What are you talking about, princess?"

"The price you want from me... I have nothing left to give you. This is it."

Seifer rests his chin on my shoulder before laughing lightly. "You really think that's all you have left? Well, that's disappointing."

"You've taken everything," I argue defensively, not appreciating his mocking tone.

"That's not true," he says with a kiss against my neck. "You may have given me your trust, your love, and your body, but you have yet to give me complete ownership of your days, months, and years."

I shiver at the breath against my wet skin, not expecting such words from the playboy. The only argument that comes to mind is, "We only met two months ago."

"Mmm, very true. It took a week to gain your trust and another month to gain your love, so I figure we're on track for me to propose to you on Christmas Day. We're going to California for the holidays, right? I think your father would love to be there when it happens."

Staring at the tiled walls of the shower, I find it hard to believe that Seifer is already thinking about marriage, with a man no less. "You're insane."

The wet blond laughs at the comment before pressing his lips against my ear and warning me, "Wait and see, princess. You'll love the ring."

I shake my head in disbelief of his arrogance, the man already assuming that I'd accept any proposal of his. But stranger yet is that I don't feel particularly bothered or afraid of what he is demanding with his suggestion. Instead, I feel stupid and naive that I ever believed my love for Piet was something real and lasting. This is what it should have been, a partnership beyond the easy words of love and the physical bonding of sex. I was a fool to believe that 'I love you' meant anything when something stupid like 'it'll be worth the price' means so much more. It's an understanding instead of a platitude and I didn't realize how much I needed that until Seifer trampled his way into my life.

"You're smiling," Seifer points out, his voice shining with the smirk that must be plastered on his face. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing that matters to you."

"Oh, I doubt that. Maybe I can find a way to convince you to tell me?"

As large hands slide down the wet skin of my body, I feel myself drifting into a warm haze. It's cruel of him to do this to me, changing me into a person who responds to his every touch. One of these days I need to figure out how I can regain control over this relationship, even if it requires a preemptive strike to his potential holiday proposal. It'd be amusing to see his reaction if I gave him a ring on his birthday, mere days before Christmas. ... And that more than anything proves that I've been ruined by this blond bastard. He should have warned me that his idiocy is contagious.

"Don't share that smile with anyone else, lovely," Seifer states lowly, the abruptly deep tone rumbling with a possessive edge.

"And why's that?'

"Because it'd make a smart man steal you away from me."

While I know he must be exaggerating, I decide to alleviate his obvious concern. "It makes no difference. You're at fault for doing this to me."

His hands move to my hips and force me to turn around in order to face him, his expression soft and serious when he demands, "Then it belongs to me, right?"

I don't bother to reply, allowing my expression to answer whatever question he is really asking.

A slow, pleased smile forms as Seifer places a hand at my cheek. "And you said you had nothing left to give me."

"I suppose that I misspoke."

With a chuckle, the blond bends down to brush his lips against mine. "If you continue to raise the price like this, I'm not going to be able to keep up, princess."

"... ...?"

"Don't you remember - I promised to make this worth the price you pay."

It's a surprise to see the vague concern in his eyes, almost hidden by the amount of arrogance shining in the jade depths. I want to argue, to remind him that he has given me a reason to live after years of waiting for a death that wouldn't come. But I don't want to belittle his fears, so with a hand placed on top of his, I tell him simply, "You've lived up to your promise thus far."

"Thus far, huh?" he prods with a raised eyebrow.

Brushing my thumb along the back of his hand, I say carefully, "I can give you my days and my months, Seifer, but give me time to decide on the years."

"I'll give you all the time you need, princess, just as long as you're here while you make that decision."

"You're being greedy," I state both in exasperation and in amusement.

"You have yet to see how greedy I can be," Seifer says in a low purr, then leaning back down to apparently prove to me the extent of his greed.

And though I already have good impression of his hunger and selfishness, I will allow him this demonstration for tonight and however many nights there are to come. After all, I've paid a high price to be here with him - the least Seifer can do is prove that he values everything that I have given him.

{Owari}


End file.
